A Touch of Frost
by kazoquel4
Summary: With the Dark Lord on the rise, Jack Frost is sent to spend the year at Hogwarts for safety. Upon arrival, he is faced with challenges never before encountered: the trivia of friendship, crushes, and schoolwork. But keeping his identity secret is going to be one heck of a challenge in a magical school where nothing is kept secret for long...
1. Magical Discoveries

**This story was a product of boredom, a case of writer's block, and the thirst to inexplicably combine Rise of the Guardians and Harry Potter. So, if you're interested… here you go.**

**Chapter One: Magical Discoveries**

Jack Frost loved surprises. The feeling of excitement coursing through your veins, the anxious wait for their expected surprise. The shocked looks on people's face when they came face to face with their sudden gift. Over the last three hundred years, Jack and witnessed hundreds of surprise parties. The anticipation was what made it fun- and, as the guardian of fun, it was kind of a given that he would enjoy surprises.

But, as he had come to discover, some surprises were just too large and unexpected to wholeheartedly enjoy.

The guardians were gathered in North's office, talking and relaxing after a hard day's work. Jack lounged on one of the sofas, on the edge of the circle of heat and light given out by the fire. If he wished, Jack _could _join the others, who were grouped around the fire. But the heat made him uncomfortably warm and stuffy, so he preferred to hang back a bit.

Baby Tooth sat perched on his shoulder, keeping him company. North was seated in his huge red armchair, sipping a mug of hot chocolate. Tooth fluttered nearby, chatting amiably to Sandy, who simply nodded as he listened, a small smile on his face. Bunny sat right next to the fire, messing with one of his boomerangs.

"And little Mari Levine lost her first tooth today," Tooth said eagerly, her wings flapping at high speeds to keep her off the ground. Sandy watched her with something akin to amusement on his golden face. "She's such a good girl, always brushes-"

"I can't wait to brush myself outta here," Bunny muttered, sheathing his boomerang and tipping his head back.

"Ah, come on, Bunny," Jack called from his vantage point on the sofa, beaming at the Pooka. "We're the best company you could have! Why would you want to leave?"

"What about you?" Bunny shot at the winter spirit. "Aren't you supposed to be out causin' a blizzard or something?"

Jack stretched out, wiggling his pale toes. "I'm taking a vacation," he said, leaning his head back. "What do you say, Baby Tooth? Wanna head over to Hawaii?"

Baby Tooth chattered eagerly. Bunny rolled his eyes. "You'd melt, kid."

"I don't melt!" Jack protested, furrowing his eyebrows.

Bunny snorted. "Sure you don't."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"So, how was everyone's day?" North said loudly, stopping the bickering before it could take off. Having had much experience with the two's spats, the Russian had learned when to interrupt to stop them.

"_Someone _froze my feet to the floor," Bunny said indignantly, shooting a look at Jack.

Jack laughed. "Is that what you're so hacked off about, Kangaroo? Honestly, you'd think you would have gotten over it by now."

"You did it three hours ago! I'm supposed to have gotten over it by now?"

"Holding grudges is proven to be detrimental to one's health," Jack said wisely, petting the top of Baby Tooth's head lightly.

"I'll bet you don't even know what detrimental means," Bunny accused, glaring at the teen.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Do too."

"Then what does it mean?"

Jack opened his mouth to make a witty response, then froze. He frowned, racking his brain for the information he was looking for. He distinctly remembered reading the word off of one of Jamie's vocabulary sheets, but the actual meaning of the word was just out of reach. "Um… hold on a second, I've got this…"

Bunny smirked. "Nice, Frostbite."

"Bunny, don't be mean," Tooth scolded, looking up from her conversation with Sandy. She had taken Jack under her wing, in a sense, and was quick to jump in when anyone threatened to even make him slightly unhappy. The way she fussed over the teen, you would have thought that she was his mother, and an overprotective one at that.

Jack stuck his tongue out at Bunny when Tooth wasn't looking. The Pooka's jabs never really hurt him; they rarely even managed to annoy him. But that was something he had conveniently forgot to mention to Tooth, preferring instead to watch Bunny struggle with the disapproving fairy.

Bunny spluttered indignantly, glaring at Jack. "But-"

"No buts, Bunny," Tooth said firmly, her feathers shimmering in the light crackling off the fireplace. "Go on, apologize."

Frowning sharply, Bunny glanced over at Jack. "I'm very sorry," he said sincerely. Then unable to help it, he added snidely, "That you're unable to fight your own battles and must rely on Tooth."

Eyes narrowing, Jack clutched his staff and lifted himself lithely to his feet. "_Why, you little-_"

"Boys, please!" Tooth said as Bunny got to his feet as well.

"Not again," North sighed, leaning back in his seat and taking a long sip of his steaming drink. Sandy observed the battle preparations with raised eyebrows, too used to Bunny and Jack's arguments to react too strongly to this one.

Suddenly, a loud pop resounded through the room. Everyone jumped, and Jack was momentarily distracted from the mock-battle to search around for the cause of the noise. His staff was clutched protectively in his hands, his icy blue eyes laden with suspicion and confusion.

An old man straightened up on the other side of the room. He appeared to have simply appeared out of nowhere, and Jack surmised that he must have been the source of the popping noise. He had a long, silver beard that caught the light of the fire in a way similar to Tooth's. It trailed down his chest and over a set of deep maroon robes that just barely brushed against the hard wood floor below. His bright blue eyes, hidden behind a pair of wired spectacles and surrounded by wrinkles, shone with amusement and wisdom. The nose protruding from the center of his face was long and crooked, although it had been broken a couple of times over the course of his life. A small smile was curved across his face as he swept his gaze across the assembled guardians.

Jack stared back at him, not lowering his staff from where he held it at the ready. "Alright," he announced to the silent room, "please tell me I'm not the only one who's seeing this."

Suddenly, North let out a booming laugh, clambering to his feet. "Albus!" he said in apparent joy, coming forward and wringing the old man's hand. "How good it is to see you!"

The old man inclined his head, his smile kind. "A pleasure as always, Nicholas," he said in a quiet voice. He turned to the three other guardians, not yet sparing a glance for Jack. "Toothiana, Bunnymund, Sandy," he said, smiling at each of them in turn.

Tooth fluttered excitedly, smiling broadly. "Albus!" she said happily, not seeming to be the least bit confused by the strange old man who had flashed into the room.

Jack, on the other hand, was completely bewildered. "Pardon my intrusion," he said, drawing attention to himself, "but, um, what's going on?"

North let out another laugh, walking over to clap Jack on the back. The teen stumbled forward a few steps, shooting the large man a disgruntled look.

"You haven't been introduced, yes," he said, nodding. "Jack, this is good friend of mine, Albus-"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the old man interrupted, smiling at Jack. "You may call me Professor Dumbledore. And you are, of course, Jack Frost, spirit of winter?"

Relaxing his arms ever so slightly, Jack gave a hesitant nod. "Yeah," he said, shooting a look at North. "Er… it's nice to meet you and all, but… yeah, still not really clear on exactly who you are."

Dumbledore chuckled softly, not seeming to be bothered by Jack's blunt inquiry. "No, I haven't exactly explained myself, have I?" he asked good-naturedly. "I'm here on a business call, I'm afraid."

"A business call?" Bunny asked, frowning. "What sorta business?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Business of the grimmest kind, I fear," he said solemnly. "But, I suppose an explanation is needed for your newest addition," he continued, his eyes twinkling as he took in Jack's confused expression.

"That would be helpful, thanks," Jack said, leaning on his staff casually.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well. I will not beat around the bush, Jack. I'm headmaster at a school for wizards."

Whatever Jack was expecting, it was not that. The other guardian's watched Jack expectantly as he stared blankly at Dumbledore.

Suddenly, he burst into laughter. Throwing his head back, his laugh fluttered from his mouth easily. It was musical, like wind dancing through frozen icicles.

"He's joking, right?" he laughed, looking around at the guardians with tears of mirth brimming in his blue eyes. When he saw their serious faces, however, his laughter petered off, a frown tugging on the corner of his lips. "Right?" he asked again, doubt tinting his voice.

"I am pleased to say that I am not," Dumbledore said patiently. He seemed to have been expecting Jack's initial reaction. "There is an entire community of witches and wizards with magical powers, hidden from the rest of the world."

Jack raised his dark eyebrows, nodding slowly. "Wizards," he said slowly. "Alright, I think I'm following. So you're headmaster at a… school for wizards and stuff?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, nodding. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Suddenly, Jack spun on the other guardians. "And I assume you all knew about this?" he demanded, eyes narrowed.

Tooth gave him a nervous smile. "Well… yes," she admitted.

"And you never _told me_?!" Jack asked. Cold wind fluttered in from the open window, gently lifting him a few inches off the ground as he stared down at the guardians.

"Well, excuse me," Bunny said sarcastically, "but how exactly were we supposed to tell ya something like that? 'Oh yeah, Jack, have we told you about the secret society of witches and wizards'? That's not something that really comes up in a conversation."

"It would have been useful information," Jack said stubbornly, jutting his chin out slightly.

"We were sworn to secrecy," North shrugged. "Besides, it did not concern you. At least, until now," he said, turning to Dumbledore, who was examining the empty space under Jack's feet with polite interest. "I'm guessing that your business has something to do with Jack?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said again. "I suppose you recall the… unfortunate events fifteen years ago?"

The elder guardians' faces darkened. A shimmering image in appeared in golden sand above Sandy's head- a glittering skull with a serpent coming from the mouth. Although it was made of dream sand, Jack got a foreboding feeling just looking at it. He somehow knew that this was a dark image, something that held a bad history.

Dumbledore's face darkened. "Yes," he said quietly. Clearing his throat, he continued. "It appears that history is repeating itself yet again, and the Wizarding World is once again threatened."

Tooth gasped. "I thought he was gone!" she said.

Dumbledore sighed as though he held the weight of the world on his shoulders. "We were… mistaken," he said.

Jack frowned at the group, trying hard to decipher what they were saying. "Wait, what happened fifteen years ago?" he asked.

Dumbledore shook his head. "Now is not the moment," he said. "You shall learn with time. I come here today to express my concern for young Jack. The Dark Lord is well known for his hate of anything joyful. I'm afraid he will do anything to crush any and all fun in the world."

If possible, Tooth seemed even more alarmed by this news. "Oh, no!" she said, shooting a worried look at Jack.

Jack gulped. "What do you mean, crush all fun?" he asked, afraid of what Dumbledore was leading up to.

"It means the Dark Lord will try and destroy you, Jack."

Jack's mouth went dry, a sudden wave of heat washing over him. Bunny let out a soft growl. "He ain't gonna touch him," he said confidently, laying a hand on his boomerangs.

"Thanks, Bunny," Jack said quietly, his voice lacking his usual sarcastic tone.

"I understand that you are competent guardians," Dumbledore said, noticing the protective stances the guardians took, their eyes watching Jack with concern. "But you'll have your hands full simply trying to keep joy in the world."

North spoke next. "What are you getting at, Albus?" he demanded, reluctant to admit the man made sense.

"I believe it will be much safer if Jack spent the year at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said.

Jack was quick to protest. "No way!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms. "I'm not going to _school,_ are you nuts? I have winter to deliver year-round, I can't take time off to be cooped up in class. It's outrageous, it's-"

"A good idea," North said slowly, nodding.

Jack's jaw dropped as he turned to the toy maker. "North!" he said.

"It will be good for you to take a year off," North said thoughtfully, more to himself than anything. "Socialize a bit, learn a few things. You've never had the chance to go to school, I think it will be beneficial… and a good way to stay out of trouble for the year…"

"Trouble?" Jack asked, twirling his staff around. "When do I ever get into any trouble?"

The staff made contact with the couch. With a crackle, frost spread across the cushions, completely coating the sofa in a layer of snow.

Jack tugged his staff back, grimacing. "Oops," he muttered.

Bunny nodded. "Yup. You're going to the school."

Jack glared at him. "Traitor."

"Please, Jack, it will be safer," Tooth said, fluttering over to hover in front of him. She looked him head-on, her sparkling purple eyes pleading. Jack could see genuine worry in her eyes, and he felt himself cave in a little bit.

"Well- I have duties," he said quickly. "I can't take a year off."

"We will get you helpers, no?" North asked, nodding.

"If need be, you may always take time off of weekends to spread your snow," Dumbledore said. "As long as you don't draw attention to yourself."

"But- no one will see me!" Jack exclaimed, grabbing at straws. "I doubt I have very many believers at this school."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Magic is a powerful thing," he said. "It will be very easy to make you visible to the magical world, whether or not people believe in you."

"But- but-" Jack said, desperately casting his eyes around the room for another protest to give. He caught Baby Tooth's eye, but the fairy simply shrugged, looking sympathetic.

"Give it up, Snowflake," Bunny said. "You're going to school."

"Excellent!" Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together. "Term starts September 1st, which is in a week, I believe? Nicholas, you remember how to get into Diagon Alley?"

"Yes," North said, bobbing his head.

"I shall send over a list of things Jack will need for the upcoming school year," Dumbledore said. "He will be beginning his fifth year, as he has the appearance of a fifteen or sixteen year old." He turned to Jack, who was watching the conversation with a grumpy expression. "You will have a lot of catching up to do," he warned. "But I think you will find the students at Hogwarts to be very helpful." His eyes twinkled, as if he knew something Jack didn't.

"Whatever," the teen muttered, put in a bad mood by the events of the evening.

Dumbledore chuckled. "It is time I take my departure," he said. "I have much work to do at the castle, especially in preparation for you, Jack Frost." He took a step back. "I shall see you in a week," he told Jack.

"Goodbye, Albus," Tooth said, smiling at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore inclined his head to her. "Goodnight, Toothiana," he said cordially. Shooting another knowing smile at Jack, he turned on the spot. With another resounding crack, he disappeared into thin air.

* * *

**A/N: Bleh. I think it started alright, then it got… not as good. Well, whatever. Tell me what you think, and if you have any interest on me continuing… **

**Thanks for reading (if you did)!**

**Xoxo,**

**Kayla**


	2. A Secret World

**A/N: I have decided to set this during the fifth book and put Jack in fifth year, because I have realized I really want to mess with Umbridge. And the ending works better for what I have in mind, so… yeah, there's that change. Thanks!**

* * *

**Chapter Two: A Secret World**

The day before September 1st, Jack was rudely shaken awake by North _much_ earlier than he expected.

"Up!" the Russian said, his loud, jolly voice making Jack wince sleepily. "Up, up, Jack! We have much to do today!"

Jack sat up groggily, his hair mussed and his eyes frosted over with sleep. Accustomed to getting up on his own schedule, he took poorly to this new alarm clock.

"Whadya want?" Jack asked sleepily, his voice nothing but a croak. He had spent the last week spreading snowstorms far and wide, getting prepared for his dreaded trip to Hogwarts. He had a feeling he wouldn't get to use his powers much in school, and had therefore been satisfying himself with working overtime. Unfortunately, the excessive use of his magic had worn him out, and he had been forced to take several naps in the room North had reserved for him at the Pole.

"We need to get school supplies!" North explained, beaming down at the winter child.

Jack grunted, falling back against the cool pillow. North was _way _too much of a morning person. Jack didn't like actually sleeping, for he wasn't causing mischief and having fun when he was doing that. But as soon as he was out, he absolutely _loathed _getting up. "We'll do it later," he mumbled, closing his eyes again.

"No time!" North insisted, poking Jack.

Jack swatted at him. "The stores'll be open later," he sighed, refusing to open his eyes.

Suddenly, Jack felt as though the world was being yanked out from beneath him. He let out a yelp as North snatched the pillow out from underneath him, causing Jack to slam his head down on the cool mattress.

"Morning time!" North said, dropping the pillow to the ground.

Jack rubbed his head, leaning up on his elbows and glaring at North. He was thankful he didn't wear any blankets while he slept, because he would have been totally tangled in them by now.

"Not cool," Jack muttered, awareness rising in his eyes as he woke up.

"You are awake, no?" asked North cheerfully. "That was my intent! Now, get ready. We leave for Diagon Alley in fifteen minutes!"

He walked over to the door, stepping into the hallway. Before shutting the door, he turned around and poked his head back into the room. "And no going back to sleep, or I will call Bunny!" Then he slammed the door shut.

Grumbling under his breath, Jack clambered to his feet. The chilly floor frosted underneath him when he touched down, cracking under his feet. The window was wide open, as it had been all night; the room had to have been below freezing. Sleeping there would have been impossible for most people, but for Jack, it was the only way he could be comfortable.

He grabbed his staff, which was leaning against the headboard. Stretching, he padded over to the door and pulled it open, slipping into the empty hall.

Springing lithely into the air, Jack floated down the stairs and into the workshop. Although it was relatively early, most of the yetis were already at work making toys. Smirking, Jack shot himself across the room, barely brushing the yetis' heads and making many of them jump with the unexpected chill that always seemed to hang around the boy.

Jack swooped into the kitchen, touching down. A dozen yetis were preparing an assortment of breakfast items, as they did every day. Jack swept his gaze around the crowded room. It was filled with a variety of delicious smells and scents, but it was uncomfortably stuffy for Jack, and the roar of the flames in the ovens lining the room made him nervous. But it was the quickest way to get food, so Jack slipped a smile onto his face and walked over to the counter.

"Hey, Harold," he said, reaching for a piece of bread lying in a basket on the counter and hopping onto a barstool.

The head chef took one look at the winter spirit and let out a long moan. Jack didn't eat very often, but when he did, it was as though he had two stomachs. At the rate he ate, the yetis had a hard time keeping up with him.

Jack chuckled, taking a bit of the bread. "Don't worry," he said through his mouthful of food, "I'm just here for a quick snack. North's dragging me to-"

"JACK!" hollered a voice from outside.

Jack raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching. "The store," he finished, swallowing his bread. He sprung off the stool, placing the half-eaten roll back on the counter. "Gotta go," he said, twirling his staff as he sauntered out of the kitchen. Harold watched him go with relief, pleased that he wouldn't have to prepare a buffet for the kid.

On his way out, Jack passed another yeti who was struggling with a trolley of wooden trains. Stopping, Jack examined the load.

"Taking that to the workshop, Phil?" he asked.

The yeti grunted, nodding shortly. He swept his gaze over the child, raising an eyebrow and saying something in Yetish.

"I look tired?" Jack asked. He had managed to pick up a few words of the language during his time as a guardian. "Yeah, I've been busy lately. I'm going to school, did you hear?"

Phil looked taken aback. He shook his head.

"Yup," Jack said casually, swinging his staff absentmindedly. "A full year off at Hogwarts. I was forced into it by the guardians and an old man." He looked up at the yeti, his eyes glinting. "You don't think you could hide me in a closet or something? At least until the train leaves?"

Phil shot him a look, and Jack chuckled. "Nah, didn't think so." Straightening up, he cleared his throat, giving Phil a salute. "Well, my friend," he said, "it is time for me to take my leave, to the prison they call 'school'."

He turned to go. Before he had taken a step, however, he turned around, facing Phil. "Oh, yeah," he said, brushing his staff on the ground. A trail of ice shot off down the hallway, leading to the workshop. "That'll help you move the cart easier," he explained at Phil's confused expression. "You looked like you were having a bit of trouble."

Phil experimentally pushed the cart. It glided easily, no longer an issue. Smiling, he looked up at Jack, grunting his thanks.

"No problem," Jack said, waving him off. "I'll miss you, buddy."

Phil looked at Jack for a long time before nodding. Then he trudged off down the corridor, keeping a light hand on the cart handle, which skated easily on the ice.

* * *

"Oh, be safe, Jack," Tooth said, straightening his hoodie and frowning.

Since the train left tomorrow from Kings Cross Station, Jack and North were planning on spending the night in 'Diagon Alley', which was some sort of secret wizard shopping mall. Jack wasn't sure he wanted to go stay in a place that sounded quite a bit like 'Dragon' Alley, but North thought it was safe, so that's where they would be saying.

Rolling his eyes, Jack brushed her off. "I'll be fine, Tooth," he laughed.

Giving him a watery smile, Tooth lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But it's a whole year!" she protested.

"He will be back at breaks," North called over from the other side of the room.

"And you were very keen for me to go the other night," Jack muttered, pulling back a bit. A frown creased his forehead as he thought of the topic that had slipped, unbidden, into his thoughts several times. "None of you seem to care it's for a whole year."

Tooth pulled back, her eyebrows furrowing. "What do you mean?" she asked. "Jack, is something wrong?"

"Course not," Jack lied, clutching his staff protectively. Clearing his throat, he turned to North, who was watching the exchange with a thoughtful expression. "We need to go, don't we?" he asked.

North nodded once. Jack sighed, turning to the other guardians, who were watching them with sad eyes.

Jack raised a hand in departure. "Well, bye," he said awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

Tooth wiped her eyes, tried for a smile, and waved back animatedly. Sandy smiled gently, nodding. Bunny opened his mouth to say something, but the words got stuck in his throat. Clearing his throat, the Pooka said gruffly, "Don't get into any trouble, Frostbite."

A smile twitching at his lips, Jack backed over to where North stood at the ready. "No promises, Kangaroo." He turned around as North dug in his pocket, pulling out a small, circular object.

"Ready?" North asked, tossing it up and down.

Jack nodded. The confidence he always seemed to have didn't seem to be present. "Ready," he muttered.

There was a small flutter of wings, and suddenly Baby Tooth was hovering by his ears. Jack felt a little better as he smiled at her. Dumbledore had allowed him to bring Baby Tooth as his pet, so at least he wouldn't be alone for the entire year. And for that, he was grateful.

Winding up, North tossed the snow globe at the wall. "Leaky Cauldron!"

Jack took a surprised step back as a swirling vortex of colors opened up in front of him. Wind tore at his clothes, threatening to suck him in, but he planted his feet firmly and held his staff close to him. "Wait!" he yelled over the noise. "I thought we were going to Diagon Alley!"

North chuckled, the sound easily heard over the roar of the portal. "Same thing!" he called, grabbing Jack's hoodie and slinging the boy into the portal, where he and Baby Tooth disappeared.

"Be careful, you three!" Tooth called as North prepared to step through.

Laughing, North said over his shoulder, "We are guardians, no? What could go wrong?"

* * *

Jack picked himself off of the dirty wood floor, shaking his head to get rid of the dizziness. Clambering to his feet, he cast a critical eye across the place, wrapping his hands firmly around his staff for comfort.

He was in a dimly lit pub. The air smelled like stale beer and dust, and it was nearly dead silent in there. Scratched and broken chairs and tables littered the place. The only occupant thus far was a very old man standing behind the counter with a dirty rag. He was wiping down the counter, not even noticing the fact that a very disgruntled winter spirit had just been thrown violently into his bar.

Jack wrinkled his nose. If this was where wizards came to socialize, he didn't think very highly of them just yet.

Baby Tooth fluttered over and settled herself down on Jack's shoulder. There was a _whoosh _from behind him, and North stepped up, looking far too happy in Jack's opinion.

"Well then," he said, clapping his hands. "Is time to go to Diagon Alley!"

The bartender jumped, dropping his rag. He looked up, eyes widened, as North walked over to the counter.

"Where'd you come from?" the man asked, looking bewildered.

North chuckled, but didn't answer. "Where is the way to Diagon Alley?" he asked instead.

Shaking his head, the bartender pointed a finger in the direction of a doorway off to the side.

"Much thanks!" North boomed, sauntering over to the doorway. Jack trailed after him, exchanging a curious look with the barkeeper.

When the two guardians walked through the doorway, they found themselves in a small dead end alleyway. A brick wall blocked them from going any further. A couple of trash cans stood around the small area; Jack was scared to look inside of them. Who knew what he might find?

"Can we go back to the pole now?" Jack complained. "This is a brick wall. These people are crazy!"

Smiling knowingly, North reached into his pocket for something. "Albus gave me instructions," he said, pulling out a stick. Turning to the wall, he started tapping a series of bricks with the short stick.

"And… there," he said, finishing and stepping back.

For a second, nothing happened. Then, the wall began shifting. Jack watched in disbelief as the bricks moved and changed, forming an archway where a solid wall had previously stood.

Whistling, North pocketed the stick. Catching sight of Jack's incredulous look, he beamed. "What do you think of wizards now?" he teased.

Jack blinked slowly, still stunned. "Um… cool…" he said.

North walked through the archway. Jack followed him, stepping into a secret world.

They were in a narrow, cobbled street lined with all sorts of odd shops. The street bustled with people wearing brightly colored clothing. They streamed past North and Jack, holding their shopping bags and talking with each other.

"They've upped the cost of dragon liver again!" one woman was saying to her friend in a disapproving tone.

"Hard times, Joanne," her friend said, shaking her head solemnly.

Jack stared with his jaw open, turning around in a circle. It was just too much to take in. He saw a shop labeled 'Apothecary' that advertised beetle eyes and dragon hearts. Eeylops Owl Emporium carried an assortment of beautiful owls hanging in wired cages.

Baby Tooth let out a squeak and dove into the pocket of Jack's hoodie for safety.

"Come along, Jack," North said, sidling through the crowd. His large frame easily broke through the crowds of people. All Jack had to do was follow along closely behind him, and he easily maneuvered down the crowded street.

"First, books," North said over his shoulder. "Then Potion supplies, robes, and wand."

"Wait," Jack said, bounding over to walk next to North. "Why do I need a wand? I can work just fine with my staff." He held up the shepherd's crook in example, raising his eyebrows.

"Put that down," North said quietly, lightly pushing the staff to Jack's side. Glancing around, he spoke quietly, "No one can know your real identity. You will be exchange student for the year."

Jack glanced down at his staff. It was his weapon, his conduit of power. He couldn't just _ditch it _for the year. "I'm not trading this in for a wand," he said firmly. "If I can't have it, I'm not going."

"No one said you have to trade it in," North assured him. "Dumbledore has had a long talk with the wandmaker. They have worked something out between them. Now then, there is robe shop! Come along!"

They headed into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The woman eyed Jack in surprise, taking in his white hair and young face, but didn't say anything. When he was all outfitted with thick, itchy, stupid looking robes (in Jack's opinion), they walked back into the alley.

Apothecary was much the same way. Jack enjoyed the displays, and explored while North picked out his potions supplies. There were all sorts of crazy things Jack never thought he would see. Unicorn horn? He hadn't even known unicorns _existed. _He was dismayed that no one had ever told him about this secret world. So far, it was amazing.

After North had purchased all of Jack's supplies, they went to Flourish and Blotts bookstore. _This _store Jack enjoyed a lot less. Books were never exactly his strong point, but as far as bookshops went, he had to admit this was the most interesting. He tried to run his finger along the spines of the books as he read, but after leaving a trail of suspicious-looking frost behind, he limited himself to simply looking. There were books of every size, shape, and subject. From _A History of Magic _to a collection of what seemed to be magical fairy tales, Jack had a feeling that not even _he _would be able to get bored here. And that was saying something, as Jack had barely read anything in three hundred years.

North was having trouble finding all of his books. Jack glanced over to see the large Russian frowning down at the paper and speaking with a salesperson. Jack sighed, leaning against his staff. He was going to be here a long time.

"Excuse me," said an airy voice behind him.

Jumping, he spun around and found himself face to face with a teenage girl. She appeared to be about Jack's age, maybe a year younger. Her long, straggly blond hair came down to her waist, and she had the strangest eyes. They couldn't seem to decide whether they wanted to be silver or light blue, and therefore contented themselves with a color somewhat in the middle. Tucked firmly behind her ear was a short stick type thingy, which Jack guessed was a wand. Something that looked distinctly like orange radishes dangled from her ears.

"I'm sorry," Jack said suddenly, realizing he was gawking at her choice of jewelry. "Am I blocking your way?" He stepped away from the bookcase he had been standing in front of.

A small smile played on the girl's face. "No," she said quietly. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Oh," Jack said, taken-aback. He was used to being invisible; people coming out of their way to say hello to him was not something he was used to. "Well… hi?"

The girl had to look up at him a bit, seeing as he was a few inches taller than her. She smiled serenely. "You have white hair," she noticed. "I expect the Ringledooks are the culprits. My dad's told me about them.

Jack felt a laugh bubbling in his throat. Surely this girl was joking? Then he noticed that she was dead serious, and coughed down his laughter.

"Er, not really. I-" he hesitated, remembering what North had told him. "I- it runs in my family," he said lamely. "White hair, I mean."

The girl hummed slightly. "If that's what you say," she said, as though she still believed 'Ringledooks' had caused Jack's odd hair color. Sticking out her hand, she said, "I'm Luna Lovegood."

Jack extended his own hand, wrapping it around her warm ones. "Jack Frost," he said.

If Luna noticed that Jack was several degrees colder than should be possible, she didn't react. "Like the Muggle myth?" she asked curiously.

Jack frowned. "Muggle?" he asked quizzically.

"Non-magical people," Luna explained. "Jack Frost was originally a character in Muggle folklore. He was said to be the embodiment of winter, with magical powers."

Jack felt his cheeks start to flush a light blue as they always did when he was nervous. "Oh, yeah, I think I've heard of him," he said nonchalantly. "But he's just a myth, right?"

Luna eyed him disconcertingly. For a moment, she was quiet, and Jack wiggled under her gaze. "Perhaps," she said finally. "But you never know which myths could be real." She turned to the bookshelf, running her fingers over the layer of frost spread across the binding. "Take the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, for example. No one believes in it except my father and I, but we know it's out there. And we're looking." She beamed over her shoulder at Jack.

"Right…" Jack said, not sure what to say to this odd girl.

Turning back around to face him, she cocked her head and blinked up at him. "I haven't seen you at Hogwarts," she said. "Are you starting this year?"

"Yeah," Jack said, glad to be back on the topic of something he understood. "I'm an exchange student. Starting my fifth year."

Luna nodded. "I go to Hogwarts as well," she said. "I'm a fourth year Ravenclaw."

Jack wanted to ask what on earth a Ravenclaw was, but he decided to let it go.

"Great," Jack said. "It'll be nice to know someone there."

Luna smiled. "I'm sure you'll make great friends," she said. "You'll love Hogwarts."

Jack nodded awkwardly. The conversation had reached a stand-still. Luna didn't seem to mind. She hummed under her breath as she looked about the shop with a serene expression on her face. Jack wondered if all wizards were like this; if they were, it was going to be a very strange year.

Casting about for something to make conversation of, he reached out and grabbed a newspaper off the shelf that someone must have left behind. Glancing at the front page, he had to stop himself from crying out. Printed on the paper, in black and white, were moving _pictures. _Now, Jack had been around more than three hundred years, and not _once _had he seen a picture move.

"They're moving!" he said, staring intently down at the man scratching his nose on the front page.

"Well, of course," Luna said, rolling her head around on her shoulders for no apparent reason. "You can't expect them to stand still all day."

Moving his eyes down the page, Jack skimmed the article.

"Sirius Black Still at Large," he read out loud. "Escaped convict… murdered thirteen Muggles with one curse…" his frown deepened as he read on. "Previous reports that Black had been sighted doing his laundry at 'Polly's Laundromat' by Nikola Pennsworth have been investigated and proven false… Pennsworth to be proven as mad as Harry Potter himself."

Luna made a small noise, catching Jack's attention. Looking up, he noticed a small look of exasperation on her face- the first negative emotion she had made in their entire conversation.

"What is it?" he asked.

Luna sighed. "The slander against Harry Potter," she explained sadly.

Jack folded the newspaper up, sticking it in the pocket of his hoodie absentmindedly. "You know him?" he asked, unsurprised. Of course Luna would know mad people; she was proving to be rather 'mad' herself, but somehow Jack didn't mind. He actually enjoyed her company, even if she was a bit odd.

"Who doesn't?" Luna asked. "He goes to Hogwarts, a Gryffindor fifth year. I haven't personally spoken to him, but I do believe his story from last year."

"Story?" Jack asked curiously.

"That You-Know-Who killed Cedric Diggory during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament," Luna explained solemnly. "The Prophet's making him out to be a liar. They don't want to admit that You-Know-Who has risen again. But my father and I stand by Professor Dumbledore, and he stands by Harry. Besides, I've seen him. He seems very nice."

Jack shook his head, completely lost. "Okay, slow down," he said. "First of all, who's You-Know-Who?"

Luna blinked. "You don't know who You-Know-Who is?" she asked.

Jack shook his head. "No, I-"

"Jack!" North called. "Time to go!"

Luna looked at the tall Russian standing in the doorway with a bag full of books at his side. "Your father?" she asked.

"Er- Uncle," Jack made up. "Listen, I've got to go."

Luna nodded. "It was nice to meet you, Jack," she said. "I'll look for you at Hogwarts, shall I?"

"That'd be nice," Jack said truthfully. "Bye, Luna."

Luna stuck up her hand and wiggled her fingers. "Watch out for Ringledooks!" she called, turning and disappearing into the crowd of people shopping.

* * *

"North, who's You-Know-Who?" Jack asked as they made their way down the street.

North shook his head, steering him over to a small dark store. "Later," he said, glancing around. "We must not talk of that here. Come, we must get wand now."

Jack craned his neck to get a look at the sign above the door as North opened the door and pushed him lightly inside. _Ollivander's, _Jack thought to himself. Strange name for a wand shop. But then again, what was he really expecting from a shop that sold magical wands?

The door shut behind them with a tinkle of a bell. Jack glanced around the dark, derelict store. Something tickled his nose, and he realized it was magic floating in the air. Clutching his staff close to him, he looked around the shop with narrowed eyes.

"Well, well, well," said a voice directly behind him.

Jumping at least four feet in the air, Jack spun around, holding his staff in a defensive position. The old man stared down the staff pointed directly into his face, nearly cross-eyed with the effort of it.

"Jack," North reprimanded, pushing the staff down. "Do not be rude."

"Sorry," Jack muttered, lowering it back to his side.

The elderly man stared at him with golden eyes that made Jack nervous. "It is fine," he said, sweeping past them to the old counter. Turning abruptly, he spoke, "I am Ollivander. You must be Nicholas," he said to North.

North nodded. "Dumbledore spoke to you about Jack?" He clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder, nearly making his knees buckle.

"Yes, he did inform me of this… odd case," Ollivander said, turning his golden gaze on Jack. Did that man ever blink? "You need a wand," he said matter-of-factly.

Jack tightened his fingers around his staff. "Can I conduct magic with this?" he asked, gesturing to his staff.

A frown creased Ollivander's brow. "May I see it?" he said, stretching out one gnarled hand, not taking his eyes off the staff.

Jack hesitated, reluctant to give his staff up, but eventually placed it in the outstretched hand. The man snatched it up immediately, bringing it close to his eyes.

"Mhmm… yes… I see…" he murmured, turning the old wood over and over in his hands. Flicking his gaze back over to Jack, he said, "Yes."

Jack felt his heart leap. "Excellent!" he said. "We can go then, we don't need-"

"But you'll need a wand," Ollivander finished.

Jack deflated, mouth forming a pout. "_Why_?" he asked. "You said I could use it!"

"Yes, but you must learn to use a wand," Ollivander said, ducking behind the counter. Jack wandered over to hear him as his muffled voice rose from below. "It will be quite a useful skill, especially for you."

"So I just choose my wand?" Jack asked, leaning on the counter.

Ollivander popped back up suddenly, holding a narrow, dusty box in his hands. "Not exactly," he said, placing the box on the counter. "It is really the wand that chooses the wizard."

"But I'm not a wizard," Jack said with a frown as Ollivander lifted the lid off of the box.

"Yes, but you are an immortal spirit. In this case, that is enough." He handed Jack a dark brown stick that Jack now recognized as a box. "Try this," Ollivander said, handing it over.

Taking a deep breath, Jack reached over and took the wand. He held it awkwardly for a few moments, unsure on what to do.

"Well, go on, give it a wave," Ollivander said impatiently.

Jack held back his laughter and, feeling quite ridiculous, waved the wand. There was a _bang_, and a book lying on the counter completely froze in a solid block of ice.

"Nope," Ollivander said, plucking the wand from Jack's hand. While the wandmaker went around back to check for more wands, Jack stared at the unintentional frozen book with wide eyes. Never before had he not had control of his powers. The experience was quite disconcerting, and made Jack nervous.

Suddenly, Ollivander popped back out. "Cherry oak, twelve inches, phoenix tail feather," he said, opening the box and handing over the wand. "Why don't you…"

Jack waved it. A yellow streak shot out of the end, hitting the shelf. A stack of wand boxes fell to the ground, clattering to the floor.

"Oops," Jack winced.

"No, no," Ollivander muttered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. He eyed Jack closely. "I wonder… one moment, please."

Ollivander hurried over to a shelf, reaching up and tugging a box out of the stack. "This wand has been in here for three hundred years," he said, brushing the thick coating of dust off of it. "I've begun to think it was unsellable. But for someone like you… perhaps it will be a good match."

Jack took the wand. Immediately, a burst of warmth shot through his arm, but it wasn't altogether unpleasant. In fact, it was probably the first time Jack actually _enjoyed _the warmth.

Jack twirled the wand over his head, bringing it down in a smooth arc. White sparks shot from the end, and a chilly air swept through the shop that ruffled Jack's white hair. He beamed down at the wand while North and Ollivander clapped.

"Very good, very good," Ollivander said, nodding. He took the wand back from Jack, dropping it back into the box. "Coincidental… three hundred years, it's been here…"

"Mhmm," Jack said, tapping his foot slightly. This old man made him nervous, for some reason. He didn't dislike him, exactly; he just gave off a formidable aura.

"As for the matter of your staff, Professor Dumbledore gave me instructions on that," Ollivander went on, laying the box on the counter. "If you'll allow me to have it again…"

Reluctantly, Jack handed the staff over again. Ollivander grasped it firmly and disappeared into the back room.

North joined Jack at the counter, his hand deep in his pocket. "Just gotta pay," he muttered, pulling out the strange-looking coins Jack now recognized as wizard currency.

"What's he doing with my staff?" Jack demanded of North immediately.

North shrugged. "Dumbledore said he has worked something out with Mr. Ollivander. You can't go walking around with a staff, no?"

"No," Jack muttered. "But I don't want him messing with it, either."

Suddenly, Ollivander reemerged from the back room. The staff was nowhere in sight, and Ollivander looked quite pleased with himself.

"Where'd my staff go?" Jack said immediately, icy eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Ollivander smiled slightly, holding out his open hand. Peering down, Jack realized the wandmaker was holding a very small version of his staff.

"What the…?" he mumbled, blinking.

Taking the small staff in between two fingers, Ollivander said, "Engorgio."

Jack watched in disbelief as his full-grown staff reappeared before him. He cautiously reached out, grasping the staff, and felt the familiar chill run through old wood.

"Professor Dumbledore said that you would not part with your staff," Ollivander explained. "With a few modifications, I have set it to shrink and enlarge on your whim, so it may fit in, say, you're pocket. It is a simple charm, but it draws off the staff's own magic, so there is no need to use your wand. To shrink it, say, 'Reducio'; to enlarge it again, 'Engorgio'."

"Reducio," Jack said experimentally. He jumped as the staff shrank down again to miniscule size. "Awesome," he muttered, shoving it back in his pocket.

"Here you go," North said, passing across the correct amount of money for the wand. "Thank you very much."

Ollivander inclined his head, scooping the coins into his head. "The pleasure was mine," he said, fixing his golden eyes on Jack. "And Jack Frost… good luck for this school year. You're going to need it."

* * *

North and Jack rented a room above 'The Leaky Cauldron'. Jack spent the entire evening looking through his new supplies with Baby Tooth and listening to North explain all he could about You-Know-Who, or, as he had come to call him, 'Voldemort'.

"So this Potter kid defeated him when he was only a baby?" Jack asked, flipping through the newspaper he had picked up in Flourish and Blott's as he lounged on the couch. "Neat."

"Yes," North said thoughtfully. "A great accomplishment for one so young."

"You think?" Jack snorted.

Suddenly, North caught sight of the clock. "It is midnight already!" he exclaimed, hopping to his feet. "You should be in bed! Big day tomorrow!"

"Aw, come on, North," Jack complained, clambering to his feet as well. "I don't need half as much sleep as mortals; I'm fine."

"No," North said firmly. "Bed. Now."

Jack rolled his eyes, stomping into the bedroom. "Fine," he muttered, discreetly slipping the newspaper back into his pocket. He didn't plan on getting much sleep that night; he needed to educate himself on the wizarding world, and he was sure this newspaper would help him.

"Goodnight!" North called after him.

"Night," Jack muttered, slipping into his bedroom.

* * *

**A/N: Alright, really long chapter. But I wanted to get Diagon Alley wrapped up. So, yeah. Originally he was going to meet up with the trio very briefly in the alley, but since it's fifth year and they don't go there, I couldn't do that. And he had to meet SOMEONE, and I just love love love Luna. So, I chose her! Yay!**

**Thanks for all the reviews; please keep them coming! They really encourage me to write faster, and totally make my day. So take the time to leave a quick one, and tell me if you want me to continue!**

**Thanks for reading, I'll update soon.**

**Xoxo,**

**Kayla**


	3. Hogwarts

**Disclaimer: I do not, under any circumstances, own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians. This is just a story.**

* * *

**Chapter 3: Hogwarts**

"Are you sure that you have everything?" North asked, eyebrows drawn with worry.

"I'm sure, North," Jack said, rolling his eyes. They stood in the middle of Kings Cross Station, in front of the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.

"Well, alright," the Russian said, not looking convinced. "Remember, if you need anything, just send us a letter. And Professor Dumbledore will be there to help you."

"I know, I know, we went over this already," Jack sighed. "I'll be fine, really."

North nodded, taking a deep breath. "Right," he said, glancing at the clock. "You've got five minutes. You should be going…"

"Yeah," Jack said, tightening his grip on his trolley. Baby Tooth fluttered in the cage Jack had been forced to put her in, looking disgruntled and annoyed. "See you, then."

North nodded. "I will see you at Christmas." He smiled. "Have fun."

"At school?" Jack snorted, turning around. "Yeah right…"

North laughed as Jack started towards the barrier at a run. He felt a flash of fear shoot through him as he approached the solid-looking barrier, but he and North had been over this many times; he should pass right through it. Bracing himself, he shut his eyes, not stopping his run.

And suddenly he was on another platform. Opening his eyes, he found himself facing a huge red train. Smoke billowed around him, and chatting groups of people milled around, shooting strange glances at the white-haired boy that had just emerged onto the platform.

Jack grinned at Baby Tooth victoriously. "See? Told you I could do it."

Baby Tooth just rolled her eyes, arms crossed tightly.

Jack sighed. "I'll let you out on the train, alright? North made me stick you in there, mostly for show. You'll be out in no time."

Baby Tooth let out a small huff, but nodded.

Jack glanced around the platform, wheeling his trolley over to the train, where he was obviously supposed to board. Most of the students were already on board, and were leaning out the window to talk with their families. Jack stopped at an open doorway to the train and lifted Baby Tooth's cage up into it. That was the easy part. Now for the trunk.

He slipped his fingers underneath it and tugged. Unfortunately, it was a lot heavier than it looked, and didn't budge an inch. Frowning at it, Jack pulled with all his might, but he may as well have been pushing on solid rock for all the good it did him.

Jack glanced around discreetly. Everyone on the platform was too busy talking to each other and loading their own things onto the bus to notice one boy getting a little help to lift his trunk.

Reaching into his pocket, Jack brushed his fingers against his staff. Flicking his wrist, he lifted the trunk on a cushion of cold wind, quickly depositing it onto the trunk with a thud. Grinning victoriously, Jack hopped up after it- and not a moment too soon. The train let out a long, loud whistle that made Jack wince slightly. He felt something shift, and slowly it started moving.

Jack backed up, watching the platform disappear. He grinned as he noticed a shaggy black dog racing after the train, its tongue flopping out. But when the train rounded a corner, the canine disappeared from sight, and Jack decided it was time to find a compartment.

Pulling his trunk behind him with one hand and holding Baby Tooth with the other, Jack made his way down the corridor. The compartments were all stuffed with people, and none of them looked very welcoming, anyways; they were giving him obvious stares, not even trying to hide how odd they thought he was. Jack ignored them, marching straight to the back of the train, hoping to find an empty place to sit.

He reached the end of the corridor and stopped, frowning. He glanced around again, wishing hopelessly that he hadn't been sent to this school. Jack barely had any social experience with people; he was just now getting used to holding conversations after three hundred years alone. And now here he was, planted in the middle of a school of teenage _wizards_. Yup, Jack had no idea what he was doing.

"Jack Frost," a voice said to his right.

Whirling around, Jack saw a girl sticking her head out of a compartment door. A string of bottle caps hung around her neck, and she had a wand tucked behind her ear. Jack felt himself brighten, and his shoulders relaxed as he saw the only familiar face on the entire train.

"Luna!" he said happily.

Luna slid the door open a bit more. "You can sit in here. Everywhere else is full."

"Thanks," Jack said gratefully. When Luna turned her back to enter the compartment again, he used his winds to help set his trunk on the rack overhead. Then he slipped inside the small room, setting Baby Tooth down on one of the seats.

"It's nice to see you again," he told Luna, taking a seat.

Luna sat down directly across from her, wide eyes searching his face. "You've got a fairy," she noted. "I think it wants to be let out."

Surprised, Jack glanced over at Baby Tooth, who was shooting sharp looks at him. "Oh, right," he said sheepishly, reaching over to flick the lock off of the cage. "Sorry, Baby Tooth."

The fairy squeaked irritably and darted out of the cage and into the air. She flew around the compartment a few times to stretch her wings before coming to a stop near Jack's ear, hovering there and watching Luna suspiciously.

Luna just smiled benignly at her. "Hello," she said softly. "I'm Luna Lovegood. You're a beautiful fairy."

Baby Tooth puffed out her chest almost unnoticeably. Jack grinned, holding back a laugh as the fair reveled in the praise.

"I've never seen a fairy of your kind," Luna went on. "More bird than anything. My father mentioned a species of bird-like fairies that lived in Australia… are you Australian?"

"Um- no," Jack answered for Baby Tooth, who had deflated slightly and was staring at Luna with a look of confusion. "She's just… a fairy."

Luna nodded slowly, humming under her breath. "Of course," she said quietly, picking up a magazine that was lying on the seat next to her. She held it directly in front of her face, and Jack noted that it was upside down.

"Er-" he started, unsure of whether he should say anything, but was interrupted as the compartment door slid open.

"Hi, Luna," said a girl with long red hair and a spray of freckles across her nose. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"

Two boys stood behind her, eyeing Luna and Jack almost nervously. One was a pudgy, short boy with a rather round-face. The other stood right next to him, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. Short and skinny, his hair was jet black and messy enough to counter even Jack's. Bright green eyes gleamed out from beneath a pair of wire-rimmed glasses, but the most bizarre thing about his appearance was a scar on his forehead that was shaped like a lightning bolt, of all things. Jack wondered how one even managed to get a scar shaped like that.

Luna glanced up from her magazine and quickly looked over the newcomers. Her gaze seemed to linger on Harry for a few moments before she gave a short nod.

"Thanks," the red-head said, tugging her trunk into the luggage rack. The other boys followed suit, depositing their things onto the rack before taking their seats in the compartment. The girl sat right next to Luna, while the boys sat next to Jack, but with a discernible separation between the two groups. Jack scooted closer to the window, eyeing the boys uncomfortably. They eyed him right back, apparently confused as to why he was there.

The girl looked at Jack, cocking her head. "I haven't seen you around before," she noted, her gaze flicking up to his white hair.

"He's an exchange student," Luna said airily. "Starting his fifth year."

"Oh, you'll be in Harry and Neville's year!" the girl said, smiling at him. "I'm Ginny Weasley. These are my friends Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter."

She motioned to the two boys. They gave him small, polite smiles.

"Nice to meet you," Neville said quietly.

"Hold up a second," Jack said, frowning slightly. "Harry Potter; I've heard that name. You, uh…" he snapped his fingers, struggling to remember the story that North had told him. Unfortunately, Jack hadn't been paying that much attention. "You beat that Voldy guy, didn't you?"

Harry's lips twitched slightly. "Voldy?" he asked.

Jack shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It was a weird name."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, that was me… famous Harry Potter."

He said it almost bitterly. Jack raised an eyebrow, but dismissed it quickly.

"So, an exchange student, huh?" Ginny asked. "Where are you exchanging from?"

"Um… I was… homeschooled," Jack invented wildly, unsure of what to say. Did wizards even get homeschooled?

Ginny just nodded. "That's cool. One of my friends left Hogwarts to be homeschooled a few years ago… haven't heard from her since… hmm…"

Suddenly, Neville spoke up. "Is that a fairy?" he asked, catching sight of Baby Tooth, who was peeking over Jack's head at the other students.

"Oh, yeah, this is Baby Tooth," Jack said, holding his hand out. Baby Tooth fluttered into it nervously, watching the wizards closely.

Ginny let out a small gasp. "She's beautiful," she murmured, leaning in closer to look at her.

"I didn't know they let you have fairies at Hogwarts," Harry said, frowning slightly.

"I arranged things with Professor Dumbledore," Jack explained. "He said it was fine."

Neville sighed. "I wish I could have a fairy or something cool. I have Trevor though… oh, and you'll never guess what I got for my birthday!" His pudgy face brightened, and he reached into his schoolbag, searching around for something. Jack glanced over at Harry, who caught his eye and shrugged.

Finally, Neville reemerged with a small, gray, pudgy cactus in a pot. It was small and covered in gross-looking boils and was even pulsating slightly as though it was some kind of monster. Jack leaned slightly away from it, blinking.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia!" Neville said proudly, holding up. "Extremely rare, I don't even think the greenhouse has one! My great-uncle Algie got it for me for my birthday; I'm going to see if I can breed it…"

Jack wasn't quite sure why he would _want _to breed it. Harry leaned closer, frowning.

"Um… does it _do _anything?"

"Sure it does!" Neville said indignantly. "It has an amazing defense mechanism… here, watch…"

He held the plant in front of his face. Tongue between his teeth, he chose a spot and poked it with a quill he had pulled out of his schoolbag.

Dark, sticky liquid immediately shot out of every orifice of the plant. Ginny gasped, shielding her face with her arms, and Luna raised her magazine to block the spray, but Harry, who had no protection, got a face full of it. Jack threw his arms up, and a sharp jet of wind flew in front of his face, propelling the slime away from Jack and protecting him. It splattered against the window instead with a horrible squelching noise.

"Oops," Neville said, blinking the slime out of his eyes. "I didn't know it would… sorry… don't worry, though, Stinksap's not poisonous," he said uncertainly as Harry spat a mouthful of it onto the ground, gagging on the stuff.

"How'd you avoid it?" Ginny asked, lightly touching her soaked hair and glancing over at Jack.

"Um… luck?" Jack said hopefully, watching the plant nervously. "Maybe you should put that thing away, Neville."

"Sorry," Neville murmured again, storing it away.

"It's alright," Ginny said bracingly, digging in her bag for her wand. "I can get rid of it. _Scourgify!_" she said, flicking her wrist.

The Stinksap immediately disappeared, siphoned off by an unseen force. Jack watched in amazement as all of it disappeared, leaving the others completely clean. They looked totally unfazed by the magic, and Jack did his best to appear as though he were accustomed to spells and magic.

"Well…" he said, "that was interesting."

"I swear, I didn't know it would do that!" Neville defended.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" A witch pushing a trolley of what looked like piles of food pulled up at their compartment, smiling at them.

Jack leapt to his feet, a grin spreading across his face. As an immortal spirit, he didn't _need _to eat, but he could if he wanted to. And at this point, he definitely wanted to. There were piles of odd looking candies and pastries Jack had never before encountered.

"Yes!" he said, reaching into his pocket. North had given him a handful of coins, telling him to 'spend them wisely'. This counted as wise, right? Food was good.

Jack dumped a pile of coins on the trolley. The witch looked at it with raised eyebrows, then turned back to Jack with a smile. "Take anything you like, dear," she said, sweeping the coins into her money bag.

When Jack returned to the compartment with a pile of sweets laden in his arms, everyone stared at him.

"Hungry?" Ginny asked weakly.

"A bit," Jack said, dumping the food onto seat. "Anyone want some?"

"Merlin, I think you broke even my record," Harry said, reaching over and snatching a piece of candy off the top of the pile. "Ron thought I was mad in my first year; I bought at least twenty Galleons worth of food."

"Who's Ron?" Jack asked, holding a pumpkin pasty up and frowning quizzically at it.

"Ron's my brother," Ginny explained. "He's a prefect this year, so he won't be here until later."

She shot a look at Harry, whose expression had soured ever so slightly. But he hid it by popping a jelly bean into his mouth and staring out the window.

"What's a prefect?" Jack asked blankly, rifling through the pile.

Neville looked at him strangely. "You don't know what a prefect is?"

"Neville, he was homeschooled," Ginny said, frowning at him.

"Yes, but still…" Neville muttered.

Ginny, Neville, and Harry spent the next hour explaining the ins and outs of Hogwarts to Jack. Luna occasionally put in her own odd comments, but stayed behind her magazine for the majority of the conversation. Jack was especially intrigued by the four houses and the characteristics that accounted for the students in there, and thought Gryffindor sounded by far the best.

"As long as you aren't in Slytherin," Neville added.

"Oh, don't say that, Neville," Ginny chastised. "I'm sure there are some decent Slytherins…"

"Like who?" Harry snorted. "Malfoy?"

"Of course not!" Ginny said, scandalized. "I'm just saying, if Jack were to be put in Slytherin, it wouldn't matter."

"He won't, though," Neville said, looking through his Frog cards. "He doesn't seem the Slytherin type, does he?"

"I don't want to be put in Slytherin," Jack said, wrinkling his nose. "They sound like a downright bore."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Harry assured him. "You seem much more like a Gryffindor, if anything. _Maybe _a Hufflepuff, I don't know…"

"Or a Ravenclaw," Luna spoke up. "_Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure._"

"With all the smart people?" Jack snorted. "Doubtful."

At that moment, the compartment door slid open. Two teenagers stood there, already dressed in their robes.

"I'm starving!" the red-haired boy announced to the entire compartment. Stumbling over to the seats, he sat down, snatching a Chocolate Frog off of the greatly diminished pile and shoving it in his mouth. Upon noticing Jack, he frowned. "Who're you?" he asked, mouth still full of chocolate.

"Ron!" scolded the girl. She glared down at him, her bushy brown hair making her look rather formidable. "Don't be rude."

The boy rolled his eyes. "It was a _question, _Hermione. I thought you liked those," he added under his breath.

If the girl heard his comment, she decided to ignore him. Turning to Jack, she smiled. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said, sticking her hand out to shake. "I haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm a new student," Jack said, shaking her hand. He saw her give a little gasp when she met his cold skin, and quickly pulled away. "I'm Jack Frost," he said in a subdued voice.

"Jack Frost?" Hermione asked, frowning at him. "That's an… odd name."

"I've heard of that bloke before," the boy said, searching through the pile of food. "Isn't he like, some guy that runs around bringing winter?"

"It's a myth, Ron," Hermione said with a sigh, "used to explain the season of winter." Turning to Jack, who was struggling to keep a smile down, she said, "I'm sorry about him. That's Ron Weasley, and he has absolutely no tact."

"Hey!" Ron defended, but he was ignored.

"How were your prefect duties?" Harry asked the other two as Hermione took a seat next to him.

Hermione wrinkled her nose slightly. "Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each house," she said. "One boy and one girl."

"And you'll never guess who's the prefect for Slytherin," Ron spoke up, glancing up from his food.

"Malfoy," Harry replied without even having to think about it.

"Of course," Ron muttered. "Greasy little-"

"And that complete _cow _Pansy Parkinson," Hermione said with a little 'humph'.

"Parkinson?" Ginny asked in disbelief. "How in the name of Merlin did _she _get to be prefect?"

"_I've _no idea," Hermione said crossly. "Dumbledore must not have been thinking…"

Ron pointed a licorice wand at Hermione, looking surprised. "Who are you and what have you done with Hermione?" he asked suspiciously.

Hermione batted the candy away. "Oh, be quiet, Ron."

"Malfoy," Jack mused, leaning back in his seat. "You mentioned him before, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately," Harry muttered. "He's the head bully of the school, and a first-class prat. If I had my way-"

"Ah, but you _don't _have your way, do you, Potter?"

Everyone's eyes turned to the compartment door. A pale boy with slicked blond hair was standing there, watching them all with a contempt curl of the lip.

"Get out of here, Malfoy," Harry said, glaring at him.

Malfoy 'tsked' him. "I'd watch it if I were you, Potter," he said mildly. "For you see, I, unlike you, am a prefect, and I, unlike you, can punish you."

"Yes, but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone," Harry countered.

Everyone laughed. Jack felt a grin sliding onto his face; he was liking Harry more and more.

Malfoy sneered at him. "Tell me, Potter, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley?"

The laughter died down real fast. Harry's face hardened a bit. "Shut up, Malfoy," Hermione said sharply.

"Ah, I've touched a nerve, have I?" Malfoy asked, looking pleased with himself. "Well, remember to watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be _dogging _your footsteps from now on…"

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all stiffened as though they had been electrocuted. Feeling angry on behalf of his new friends, Jack stood. "Get out," he snarled at Malfoy.

The Slytherin turned to him, noticing the white-haired boy for the first time. He swept his eyes over him, frowning. "Who are you?" he asked, thrown for a loop.

Jack smiled benignly, feeling the soft weight of his staff in his pocket. "Not someone you want to annoy," he said. A gust of cold wind whistled down the corridor, its momentum slamming the compartment door shut. Malfoy jumped back into the hallway, just narrowly missing getting his face smashed in, and with a last suspicious look at Jack, turned and stomped off down the corridor.

Ron let out a bark of laughter. "I like this guy!" he announced to the others. "As long as he's not in Slytherin, that is…"

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked, looking bewildered.

"Do what?" Jack asked innocently, sitting back down.

"The… the door," Hermione said, unsure of how to phrase it.

Jack shrugged. "That was just chance," he lied. "Kind of cool, though."

"It was bloody brilliant!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione exchanged a glance with Harry. Harry shrugged, not sure what Hermione was looking for, and the girl sat back in her seat with a sharp frown.

An hour later, the group quickly pulled on their robes. The train pulled to a stop, and Jack eagerly pressed his face close to the window, wanting to see his first glimpse at Hogwarts. Hey, even if he didn't _want _to go to school, didn't mean he couldn't be excited to see it. It was a _wizard's _school. Of course he was curious.

Unfortunately, Jack couldn't see anything through the inky blackness that filled what must be a train station outside. With a small sigh, he sat back in his seat.

"You've got to get back in," he muttered to Baby Tooth, motioning to the open cage on his right. When she glared at him, he rolled his eyes. "Suck it up."

Muttering something under her breath, Baby Tooth fluttered in. Jack shut the door behind her, sliding the lock over the door and sending her a small, apologetic smile.

"Excellent, we're here," Ron said, shoving the last few Chocolate Frogs in his pocket. Jack chose not to point out that those were _his _chocolates.

"We have to go watch over the station," Hermione said, shooting Harry a quick half-smile. "See over everything…"

"'Course," Harry said nonchalantly. "We'll look after Crookshanks and Pigwidgeon."

Jack shot a look at Hermione's cat, which had been sitting in the corner of the compartment the entire trip. It shot a glare at him, which Jack hadn't even thought was _possible. _That cat had it in for him. He had never been particularly fond of cats, but this one was evil. Jack just knew it.

Hermione and Ron slipped out of the compartment to go perform their 'prefect' duties, which, as far as Jack knew, were like wizard hall monitors. The rest of the group grabbed their pets and made their way into the crowded corridor and out into the harsh, cold air outside. The others shivered, wrapping their robes tighter around themselves, but Jack felt himself relax slightly when he got into the cool air.

"I suppose Jack should come with us," Ginny said, standing on her tip-toes to peer over the heads of other students. "I mean, you're not exactly a first year…"

"I doubt he'd much fancy crossing the lake in this weather," Harry said, teeth chattering. "It's _freezing…_"

"First years!" said a clipped female voice behind them. "First years over here!"

Harry did a double take. Exchanging a confused look with Ginny, he glanced behind him.

"Where's Hagrid?" he asked, staring at a very strict-looking woman gathering the first years around her.

"I don't know," said Ginny. "Come on, let's go and get a carriage…"

"Oh, yeah," Harry said, turning away from the woman. He still looked troubled, however, as the four of them battled their way to a legion of stagecoaches people were pouring into. Jack stared at the horses pulling them. At least, he supposed they were horseless. They were scraped free of flesh, so only dark bones remained. Their eyes were white, with no pupils, and large bat-like wings protruded from their backs. Jack couldn't help but shiver at the likeliness they held with Fearlings.

He noticed Harry also staring at them, looking completely bewildered, but Ginny didn't even seem to notice them as she climbed right up in, clutching a squirming Crookshanks. Approaching the horses cautiously, Jack frowned quizzically at them. One caught his eye and let out a small snort, rearing its head.

"Bloody crowds," Ron muttered as he and Hermione joined them again. Jack pulled away from the horses to stand with them, eyebrows furrowed as he watched the skeletons out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh, hey," Harry said distractedly, turning to Ron. "Hey, where do you think-"

"Hagrid is?" Ron asked, frowning. "I dunno…"

Jack desperately wanted to know who this 'Hagrid' guy was, but decided now was not the moment to ask.

Harry cleared his throat, glancing over at those horses. "What are those things?" he said in a low voice, gesturing to them.

Ron looked over at the front of the carriage blankly. "What things?"

Harry stared at him. "The things pulling the carriages! The skeletal horse-things-"

"Er…. Harry?" Ron asked cautiously, peering closely at the horses. "There's nothing there. The carriages have always pulled themselves, you know that…"

"Hold up, I see them too," Jack broke in. "The black horses with no eyes…"

"See!" Harry said, exchanging a look with Jack. "They're right there, hooked up to the carriage!"

Ron shook his head, looking at both boys as though they were mad. "Do you two feel alright?" he asked worriedly.

Comprehension dawned on Harry's face, and he stared at Ron with a strange look. "Can't you… can't you see them?"

Ron threw his hands into the air. "See _what?_"

"Pulling the carriages!" Harry insisted.

Ron was looking pretty scared right now. "Harry, what's going on?"

"I… I don't…" Harry looked desperately at Jack, but the winter spirit just shook his head, looking as confused as he did.

"Shall we… um, get in?" Ron asked uncertainly, looking back and forth between the two as if he were genuinely terrified.

"Yeah…" Harry said. "Yeah, go on, we'll join you…"

Ron climbed inside, but Harry and Jack were stopped by an airy voice from beside them.

"I see them too," Luna said, watching them both with luminous eyes. "You're not going mad."

Harry spun on her. "You can see them?" he asked hopefully.

Luna nodded slowly. "They've always been there," she said, "pulling the carriages. Don't worry. You're just as sane as I am."

With a faint smile, she climbed gracefully into the carriage after Ron. Harry sent Jack a worried look, and muttered, "Somehow, I'm not altogether reassured."

Jack just shrugged again and together, the two followed the rest into the carriage.

* * *

Jack was pulled away from the group in the entrance hall by a very sever looking woman. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and she surveyed Jack through a pair of wire-rimmed spectacles.

"You must be Jack Frost," she said, looking him over with a raised eyebrow.

Jack gave her an easygoing smile. This lady could lighten up a bit. "Yup," he said, "that's me."

She nodded sharply. "I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Transfiguration teacher at this school," she said in a stern voice. "I will be overseeing the Sorting. The first years have already gone in; I will call you up after them. You know how the Sorting works, I trust?"

Jack nodded, remembering the quick explanation Neville had given him on the train.

"Yeah. I-"

"Very good. Come along, then," McGonagall said, sweeping away.

Shaking his head, Jack hurried along after her. She pointed into a grand hall filled to the brim with students in pointed black hats. "Join the first years," she said, motioning to a group of eleven year olds at the front of the room. They looked absolutely terrified. "I will be in in a moment."

Jack took a deep breath as she walked away. "Here goes nothing," he said, starting into the hall.

Everyone's eyes turned on him as he walked in. The whispers following him sounded like wind rushing through trees. Jack did his best to ignore them, hastening down the aisle as fast as he could. He caught Luna's eye on the table to the right; she smiled at him, giving him a small wave.

When he reached the first years, everyone turned back to their friends and began talking again. He was still receiving hundreds of curious and suspicious looks, but at least he was no longer the center of attention.

The first years were all fidgeting nervously, shooting nervous looks at Jack. He noticed with amusement he rose at least a foot above most of them, more for the very short ones. Their faces were pale and anxious in the light cast by hundreds of floating candles above them. Jack wondered what would happen if those started dripping wax.

He crouched down next to the boy next to him. He was a very small kid, with messy blond hair and light gray eyes. When he saw Jack leaning down to talk to him, he looked absolutely terrified.

"Hey, there," Jack said, shooting him a grin. "You ready to be sorted?"

The boy nodded stiffly, gulping.

Jack let out a sigh, not used to having kids be so nervous around him. "What's your name?" he asked.

"J-Jordan Gale," the boy said in a small voice.

"My name is Jack Frost," Jack introduced himself, leaning his chin on his fist and surveying the boy. "You look a little nervous there, Jordan."

Jordan let out a shuddering breath. "I'm scared," he said quietly. "I don't come from a magical family… I was so surprised when I got my letter, but…" he looked at Jack helplessly. "I'm not a wizard. I've never done anything magical, _ever. _I'm not even brave enough to put on a hat!"

Jack nodded slowly. "Let me tell you something," he said, shifting to look Jordan in the eye. "Everyone's scared up here. Heck, _I'm _scared. I've been homeschooled my whole life, and now I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen. But you know what you gotta do?"

"What?" Jordan asked, looking up at Jack with an awe-filled face.

Jack cocked an eyebrow, grinning mischievously. "You need to have fun while you're doing it," he said. "It's like a game; where will you get sorted? Which of the four houses will you get put into?"

Jordan winced. "I don't fit any of them," he said sadly. "I'm not brave, or cunning, or smart-"

"Nonsense!" Jack interrupted with a laugh. "I'm sure whatever house you get into will be lucky to have you!"

Jordan smiled hesitantly at Jack. "I hope you get in my house," he said quietly.

Jack reached out to ruffle the kid's hair. "We will be," he said with a wink. "Just you wait and see. I'm right here, nothing to be nervous about."

The door opened, and the Great Hall was silent as McGonagall swept in carrying a hat. Jack straightened up, shooting a look at Jordan. While the rest of the first years had blanched at the sight of the hat, Jordan had set his shoulders defiantly, taking a deep breath. Jack grinned, crossing his arms casually as he watched McGonagall set down the hat.

When the hat opened its mouth and started singing, Jack and Jordan exchanged surprised looks. Everyone listened quietly as the hat described the four houses and their founders. Jack listened intently as the hat virtually told the school they would either have to band together as a whole or perish. He raised an eyebrow as both students and faculty looked surprised. A hat that warned everyone they were probably going to die in song-form? What didn't this school have?

The hat finished up and fell silent. All the people gathered burst into applause, but it was punctured by the sounds of whispered conversations. Jack caught sight of Harry, Ron, and Hermione sitting together with troubled expressions.

McGonagall pulled out a scroll, standing beside the hat. "Arnold, Greg!"

A boy all the way down the line let out a slight gasp and stumbled forward. Looking as though he were walking to his doom, he made his way up to the stool, sat down, and slipped the hat over his head. It was so large it covered his eyes, coming down to almost cover his nose as well.

After a few seconds, the hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

There was a bout of applause, and Greg took the hat off, looking relieved. When he had joined his table, McGonagall went on, "Azworth, Annabel!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Burton, Edward!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The list went on, and on. Each house gained an even number of students, and all of the first years looked quite relieved to have their sorting over.

"Gale, Jordan!"

Jordan shot Jack a scared look, but Jack just grinned at him. 'Have fun,' he mouthed to the boy.

Giving Jack a shaky smile, Jordan made his way up to the stool. He sat down and slowly lowered the hat onto his head, letting it slip down to cover his ears.

The boy sat up there for at least a minute, sitting stock-still. His hands clenched the stool so hard his knuckles turned white. Jack watched curiously, head cocked a bit to the side.

Finally, the hat opened its mouth and shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Jordan tugged the hat off amid the cheers from his peers. He looked over at Jack with a wide, exhilarated smile, and hooped off the stool. Jack just nodded, smiling at the boy as he joined the cheerful Gryffindor table.

The rest of the Sorting past very quickly. Finally, Jack heard the last name of the night being called: "Jack Frost."

The hall went silent. Squaring his shoulders, Jack sauntered up to the stool, ignoring the stares he was getting. He plopped down on the stool and lifted the hat above his head. With a last cocky grin at the watching crowd, he dropped it onto his head.

"Jack Frost," said a low voice in his ear. Jack frowned slightly, but didn't say anything. "Yes, yes… the spirit of winter, very unusual indeed… now where to put you…"

Jack listened anxiously as the hat started casting it's opinion. "Loyal, hmm, but not to the point of a Hufflepuff… definite brains here, but Ravenclaw isn't the right match for you… oh, what is this? Three hundred years of solitude and loneliness… something to turn nearly anyone bitter, but you kept your fun-loving spirit… very cunning, will do anything to get what he wants… and a thirst for ambition, to prove yourself… Slytherin, yes…"

"No!" Jack said sharply, remembering the slander said against Slytherin. He had just made his first friends, and even though he didn't know them well, he didn't want to have to start all over because he was placed in the house full of snakes. Besides, the glares he had received from that side of the room would be enough to make anyone scared of that house, and he had felt an immediate loathing for Draco Malfoy. He wouldn't be able to stand it if they were in the same house…

He could almost see Pitch in his head, smirking at him. Jack Frost, the spirit of fun, in the house of evil? He wasn't sure how Bunny would handle that… and Tooth, who had been so proud of him…

_Not Slytherin._

"Not Slytherin?" purred the voice in his ear. "Are you quite sure, Frost? It's a nice fit, you know, and it would definitely help you to achieve greatness… oh, the things you can do with just the right push in the right direction, you're very powerful, you know…"

Jack clenched his fists. He was _not _about to be told he could be dark if he wanted to. He wasn't. He just… _couldn't _be.

_Not Slytherin._

The hat let out a small sigh. "If you're positive," it said. "Let's see… oh, you have died before, hmm? To save your sister… and a certain rash boldness that ends up putting you in danger… yes, yes, I suppose, it had better be…"

Jack held his breath.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Jack's lips quirked, and his heart soared. Tugging the hat off his head, he hopped off the seat, dropping the hat on the stool as though it had done him some kind of wrong.

There was no applause for a moment. Finally, Professor Dumbledore, sitting at the staff table, clapped his hands, starting a chain reaction. Soon the whole hall was a mix of applause and suspicious, furtive whispers as Jack slid into an empty seat next to Harry.

"Hey," he said, grinning over at the trio.

"Blimey!" Ron said, shaking his head. "I thought you were never going to get sorted!"

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, frowning slightly.

"You were up there for more than five minutes," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes slightly. "What was so difficult to sort about you?"

_Three hundred years' worth of emotions, _Jack thought to himself. "I don't know," he said.

"Well, at least you ended up here," Ron said with a grin. "I thought you were going to Slytherin or something… glad you could join us, mate!"

Jack forced a smile, turning back to his plate. He saw Harry watching him closely out of the corner of his eye, an almost knowing expression on his face that made Jack nervous.

Dumbledore stood up. His white beard glinted in the candlelight, and he looked out at all of the students with a smile. "Dig in!" he said, clapping his hands.

Food appeared on the table as if by… well, magic. Jack stared in disbelief at the plates of different dishes in front of him. He had never seen so much food in one place.

"Jack! Hey, Jack!"

Jordan was bobbing at his shoulder, his face flushed and happy. "We got in the same house!" he said excitedly.

Jack grinned. "What did I tell you?" He held out his hand for a high five, which Jordan eagerly accepted before hurrying off to sit back down to the meal.

"Made a friend, did you?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jack grinned at her. "Kids make the best company," he said.

Hermione frowned slightly before hesitantly smiling back. Taking that as a sign of improvement, Jack dug into the delicious food eagerly, stuffing himself. With his extremely small appetite, he wouldn't be able to eat for weeks after this, but Jack couldn't help it. It all looked so _amazing._

Jack spent the rest of the meal chatting with Ron, Hermione, and Harry, and even met his first ghost, named 'Nearly Headless Nick'. He often shot glances at the Slytherin table; they were a very subdued group, and he could see Malfoy shooting malicious glares at him from across the room. Jack was very pleased he hadn't been sorted there; he couldn't imagine sharing a dorm with those dreary looking kids.

After the final dessert courses had disappeared off the table, Ron and Harry let out deep sighs. "I'm stuffed," Ron muttered.

"Me too," Harry agreed.

The Headmaster cleared his throat, stepping up to the podium. He smiled around at them all again, and began to speak.

"Well, now that we have all finished with our meal, it's time for the start-of-term notices," he said. "First years should now that the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to students, as always." Jack noticed Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchange smirks.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to remind you all that magic in the corridors is not permitted, nor a number of other things, which can be checked on the rather… extensive list fastened to Mr. Filch's office door.

"Our changes of staff this year include Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be teaching Care of Magical Creatures, and Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a small round of polite applause, during which Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged panicked looks.

"Quidditch tryouts will be held-" Dumbledore continued.

He stopped suddenly, interrupted by Professor Umbridge, a squat, toad-looking woman wearing way too much pink. She let out a small, "_Hem, hem,_" and stood as though she were going to make a speech.

Dumbledore looked taken aback for a moment before he sat down, looking intently at Umbridge. The other teachers, however, were staring at Umbridge as though they had never seen anyone quite like her. McGonagall was glaring slightly at the toad-woman.

"Thank you, headmaster," Umbridge said in a simpering voice that ground at Jack's ears. Turning to the school, she continued, "Well, it _is _lovely to be here, and see such happy little faces staring back at me!"

She received an onslaught of blank, incredulous stares. Jack felt himself start to tune out, even before the speech started. He had absolutely no desire to listen to a long, seemingly pointless speech by this… woman.

"I'm so looking forward to getting to know you. I'm sure we'll be excellent friends!"

Jack let out a small snort, and disguised it quickly as a cough. He glanced over at Ron, who was looking back at him with an expression that showed he was clearly trying not to laugh. The red-head waggled his eyebrows at Jack, and the winter spirit quickly looked away.

And the speech bore on. And on. And on and on and on. Jack listened for the first few words, then tuned out. It sounded like a bunch of political mumbo-jumbo. Umbridge went on and on about how 'progress for the sake of progress must be prohibited', whatever that meant. He noticed that Ron had also tuned out, and was instead focusing on a knot of wood on the table which he seemed to find very interesting. Harry was looking at Umbridge with glazed eyes, but Hermione was sitting up sharply, watching Umbridge with narrowed eyes.

When Umbridge finished, she sat down immediately. Dumbledore clapped, and the staff joined half-heartedly. A few students joined, but many of them simply seemed surprised that it had ended, as they had apparently not heard a word of it as well.

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge, for that very illuminating speech," Dumbledore said, bowing again. "Now, as I was saying…"

"Yes, very illuminating," Hermione whispered to the others.

"Oh, please," Ron said turning to Hermione with an incredulous face. "Please, please don't tell me you enjoyed it. That was the most boring, long-winded speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy!"

"I'm not really clear on what it was about," Jack admitted, yawning.

"I said illuminating, not enjoyable," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "It cleared some things up for me."

Harry blinked. "It did? Sounded like a loud of waffle to me."

"What does it mean?" Ron asked, watching Hermione with a frown.

Hermione sat back in her seat, watching Umbridge closely. "It means the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts."

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the rather dull ending, but Umbridge had to be introduced. I really hate her, you know?**

**Some of the lines were taken from the book, but I'm just trying to weave Jack into the story as well as I can. Those lines are not mine. The storyline strays a lot after this chapter, now that the Guardian of Fun is there…**

**And as for the house Jack was sorted into, yes, I realize Slytherin is a good match for him, but so is Gryffindor when you think about it. And it all works into the plot, so there's no use pestering me about that.**

**PLEASE VOTE IN MY POLL FOR THIS STORY. I want to know what couples you want to see in this story, just to get an idea of what I want as well.**

**Thanks for all the reviews, and please leave one for this chapter!**

**Xoxo,**

**Kayla**


	4. Irritated Professors

**Disclaimer: Forgot this! I do not, under any circumstances, own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians. All rights go to J.K. Rowling and the producers of Rise of the Guardians; this is just a fanfiction, and I don't own the characters or the world. I'm just a thirteen year old girl with a computer.**

**Chapter 4: Irritated Professors**

As an immortal being, Jack needed a lot less sleep then the other students. Some nights he didn't even need it at all. Luckily for him, being invisible for three hundred years had acclimated him to the lonely feeling of wandering around at night. Unfortunately, however, it wouldn't do to reveal to the rest of Gryffindor House just _how _little sleep their new member needed; they already found him odd enough. So Jack was forced to wander secretly, a skill he had picked up over the years.

He could move through the halls without making a noise, drifting on the wind. He couldn't help, of course, the barks of laughter he would suddenly belt out as he looped around the corridor. Yes, it was risky of him, and he knew the other guardians would reprimand him, but he couldn't help it. If he wasn't going to be able to fly during the day, he would do it at night. He just had to be sure no one was watching him.

He slipped back into the common room and into bed at six in the morning, a broad smile on his face. The sun was just beginning to peek over the top of the dew-covered trees of the forbidden forest, casting a light glow into the room. Jack settled back onto his bed, lying on top of the covers. Tipping his head back, he shut his eyes for a few seconds, letting his breath even out again as he relaxed from his flight.

"Hey, Jack!"

Jack's eyes fluttered open. He blinked in the harsh sunlight streaming into the window, and shielded his eyes, momentarily disoriented. Where had the sun come from? It had just been rising only a few minutes earlier. Maybe it had something to do with magic?

"Wake up," Ron called to him from across the room. "It's nearly time for breakfast."

Jack shook his head. He must have drifted off. Sighing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching.

"Morning," Harry said from the bed over, smiling at him. Jack grinned.

"Morning," he said, getting to his feet.

Jack had been surprised but pleased to find that he would be sharing a room with Harry, Ron, and Neville. He had half expected Dumbledore to make him have his own room, so any slip-up Jack made wouldn't cause suspicion, but was excited to see that his things had been placed next to an empty bed in their dormitory. The other two boys, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, had eyed Jack uncomfortably, but seemed polite enough. But Seamus and Harry seemed to be having a spat of some sort; the entire night had been awkward for Jack, who had had no idea what was going on.

"Come on, Harry, Jack," Ron complained, grabbing his school things. "We're going to be late for breakfast."

Harry rolled his eyes. Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'Merlin forbid _that_', he grabbed his toiletries and shuffled into the bathroom, still looking half-asleep and very irritable.

Grinning, Jack quickly slipped his own robes over his head. He reached into his pocket to feel for his staff, but his hands just brushed fabric. Feeling his heartbeat start to quicken, Jack frantically swept his gaze across his trunk, his bed, all the while frantically scrambling in his pockets for the one thing he thought he would never lose-

Then relief seeped through him. There it was, sitting on the table beside his bed. Jack remembered putting it there the night before so he wouldn't lose it; it was small enough not to be questioned by the other boys. Smiling in relief, Jack snatched it up, feeling a spark shoot through his fingers as usual as he closed his hand around the cool wood. He always felt better when he had his staff.

"Harry!"

"I said _alright, _Ron!"

Jack reluctantly put the miniature staff back in his pocket as Harry hurried out of the bathroom, dumping his stuff on his bed. Harry, Ron, Jack, and Neville grabbed their school bags and walked down into the common room, which was already devoid of students.

"Did any of you notice how cold it was last night?" Ron asked as they hopped out of the portrait hole.

"I did," Neville said, nodding. "It was really odd; it normally doesn't get chilly until the end of November, especially not in the castle."

Jack had to try hard to keep the guilty look off his face. Hey, it wasn't his fault the temperature in whatever room he was in tended to drop a few degrees. He had left as soon as the others had fallen asleep, but they must have felt the chill that permeated from Jack when they were still awake.

"The window _was _open," Harry noted. "It was bound to get a little cold."

"I guess," Ron said doubtfully.

The four of them entered the crowded Great Hall. Breakfast was already well under-way, as they had come down rather late. They hastened to slip into the empty seats at the Gryffindor Table where Hermione sat, nose buried in a newspaper.

"Morning," she said distractedly, not looking up.

"Anything interesting?" Ron asked, dropping down next to her and reaching to grab a plate of toast.

Hermione pursed her lips, finishing reading the article she was on. "No," she said, setting it down, "nothing about Harry or Dumbledore or anything."

"Why would there be something about Harry in there?" Jack asked, eyeing the food uncomfortably. There was no way he would be able to eat after the giant feast last night.

Hermione glanced at Harry cautiously. The boy pretended not to notice, instead focusing on the bowl of porridge in front of him, and Hermione took that as an invitation to continue.

"Harry got into a little trouble last year," she said lightly, "and no one believes him about it."

She quickly summed up the events of the Triwizard Tournament as fast as she could, giving Jack only the bare minimum. Jack listened quietly, trailing his finger on the wood of the underside of the table, feeling the frost spread in secret.

"So they're trying to make everyone think he's crazy?" he asked once Hermione had trailed off.

Harry snorted, speaking up for the first time. "They're _succeeding _in making everyone think I'm crazy," he said. "That's what Seamus is all riled up about. Everyone thinks I'm just an attention-seeking liar."

He was watching Jack closely, as though expecting him to suddenly announce he agreed with the rest of the Wizarding World and walk away.

Jack shrugged. "I believe you," he said simply.

Harry blinked. "You do?" he asked.

"'Course," Jack said. "I don't see any reason why you would lie about this, because you wouldn't _want _him back. Plus, you don't seem like an attention-seeker, and you've given me no reason to mistrust you. So I believe you."

Harry genuinely smiled at him. "Thanks, Jack," he said. "I appreciate that."

Jack grinned back. "No problem."

"Aren't you going to eat anything, Jack?" Neville asked, grabbing an apple out of the fruit bowl.

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Not hungry," he said quietly. "I'll eat later."

Ron stared at him. "Not _hungry_? But how-"

"Hush up, Ron," Hermione scolded him. She frowned at Jack, looking a little bit worried. "Are you sure? Lunch won't be for a while, and you need to eat something."

"Really, I'm fine," Jack said truthfully. He didn't think he would be able to eat a bite even if he _wanted _to. "I don't eat that much."

Hermione still looked doubtful, but let it drop. "Alright," is all she said.

At that moment, McGonagall came bustling down the table handing out schedules. She eyed Jack suspiciously as she handed him his schedule, and he just grinned at her. Dumbledore had kept Jack's identity strictly secret; he hadn't even told the teachers. He could already tell McGonagall was suspicious of him. This was going to be a fun year.

Ron groaned, looking down at his schedule. "History of Magic, double Potions, Divination, and double Defense Against the Dark Arts," he complained. "I wish I had one of those Skiving Snackboxes Fred and George were talking about…"

"What about you, Jack?" Hermione asked, trying to peek at his schedule.

"Same," Jack said, showing her. "I don't suppose you could tell me what Divination is…?"

Neville winced. Harry and Ron rolled their eyes as Hermione straightened in her seat.

"Why, it's the most ludicrous subject ever!" she announced. "A bunch of wooly guess-work, and the professor…"

"It's predicting the future," Ron cut in. "And Hermione and Professor Trelawney, the Divination professor, don't exactly get along."

"She stormed out of the class midway through the year," Harry explained.

Jack winced. "Yikes."

Hermione sniffed. "I had much better uses of my time," she defended. "I'm surprised you two didn't drop it…"

"I'm looking forward to it already," Jack muttered, rubbing his eyes wearily.

Hermione seemed to realize that Jack hadn't even been to a class yet. "Oh, no, Jack, I'm sure it'll be fine," she quickly said. "It just wasn't a compatible class for me, maybe you'll enjoy it…"

Jack sighed. "Doubtful," he said, "me and school don't get along."

"Same with me," Ron said sympathetically.

"Oh, don't be silly," Hermione scoffed. "School gets along with everyone who tries!"

Jack grinned. "That's my problem, then!"

Hermione looked scandalized as Harry, Ron, and Neville laughed.

* * *

History of Magic had to have been the most boring class on the face of the earth. Jack sat through it, barely managing to keep his eyes open. Professor Binns hadn't even noticed him or made any acknowledgement that he was a new student, just launched right into the dullest lesson ever. Jack had been quite shocked to discover he was going to be taught by a ghost, but that had been the only interesting thing to happen.

Harry, Ron, and…. Well, the entire class, really, didn't seem to pay any attention either. As soon as Binns had opened his mouth, everyone except Hermione had fallen into a half-awake stupor. The bushy-haired girl, however, was vigilantly scribbling down her notes.

If this was school, Jack wanted to be picked up right now. This was _ridiculous. _He didn't care about any of this stuff, and he felt as though he were going to explode sitting still for so long. He found himself staring out the window and daydreaming about winter, when he could release torrents of snow and ice. It would look fantastic with the castle; Jack would do an amazing job this year, since he was so pent up for the rest of it. Hogwarts was promised a fantastic Christmas.

The day got a lot worse when they walked into Potions. At first, Jack was pretty pleased; he didn't much like the décor of the dungeons, but the cold temperature was a relief to him. Everyone else was shivering and muttering curses under their breath, but Jack basked in the chill. The professor must be a good one.

Jack was wrong.

Professor Snape had gotten on Jack's immediate bad side as soon as he had swept into the room. With his greasy black hair and sallow skin, he had reminded him distinctly of Pitch. The similarities increased when he looked down at Jack with obvious distaste on his face.

"Jack Frost," he said in a simpering tone. "Our newest student."

Jack clenched his fist lightly, feeling the temperature drop another few degrees. "Yes," he said lightly, trying to keep a pleasant mood. "It's nice to meet you, Professor…?"

"Snape," he sneered at him. "Now stop the chitchat and sit down, I don't tolerate tardiness."

Jack stared after the man as he swept away. Shaking his head, he took a seat next to Harry, frowning.

"He doesn't seem like a cheery fellow," he muttered.

Harry snorted. "Snape's never seen a cheery day in his life. Just a warning: he hates me, and anyone associated with me, so if you want to bother trying to get on his good side, I would go sit somewhere else."

Jack leaned against the counter. "No," he said casually, "I'm good. This should be interesting."

Snape stood at the front of the classroom, looking around at the students. He sneered at them all, looking as though he would quite like to run them all through with a sword if only he were allowed to.

"Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts," he said softly. "I need not remind you that at the end of the year, you will be sitting down to an incredibly important- and difficult- series of tests that will directly affect your future. They are, of course, the O.W.L's."

"Owls?" Jack muttered to Harry. "What is he talking about?"

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," Harry whispered back. "The test you take in fifth year."

"While this class may be full of dunderheads, I expect you _all _to get by with at least an 'Acceptable' or suffer my… displeasure."

Neville sank low in his seat as Snape stared at him.

"For many of you, this is your last year of studying with me," Snape went on. "Only the very best succeed in making it into my N.E.W.T. class, so most of you will certainly be leaving for good."

He looked over at Harry and curled his lip. Harry glared back at him, looking quite pleased at the prospect of giving up Potions.

"But until those happy farewells, I expect you all to study hard and maintain your grades in this class. Starting now, your training for your O.W.L's begins. You will be making the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe the drinker. Instructions are on the blackboard-" Snape flicked his wand and writing appeared- "and everything you need is in the store cupboard. Your hour and a half begins now."

They spent the rest of class chopping and combining ingredients in a big black cauldron. Jack had an extraordinarily hard time. Afraid to draw too close to the cauldron fire, he added ingredients at arm's length, trying his best not to brush against the hot metal. More than once he picked up a plant or ingredient without thinking about it and, unbidden, frost coated the object. Cursing, Jack quickly reversed the effect, looking around to make sure no one had noticed.

Hermione helped him the best she could, whispering instructions to him. Luckily, Jack had one thing going for him: he knew all the natural ingredients. While he drew a blank on any magical ingredients, ones coming from plants or the mortal world Jack understood inside and out. Three hundred years alone in a forest had done a lot for Jack in terms of nature, and he skillfully grabbed things out of the cupboard without even bothering to read the names.

He felt Snape's eye on him throughout the class, watching his peculiar behavior, and did his best to ignore him. He clumsily stirred the potion from a few feet away, stretching to reach the cauldron and stay away from the licking flames at the same time. Already he was uncomfortably hot, and although he had never been burned before, he really didn't want to try it.

"You can move closer, you know, Frost," Malfoy sneered at him as he brushed by. "The big bad potion isn't going to hurt you."

"Someone's going to hurt you if you don't shut your mouth," Jack snapped at him.

The boy sneered at him before continuing onto the store cupboard. Shaking his head, Jack turned back to his potion, feeling grateful he hadn't been sorted into Slytherin the night before.

"Time is up," Snape announced. "Step away from your potion."

Jack gratefully dropped the tools he had been using, stepping away. His potion obviously wasn't perfect, but it didn't look as bad as some of the others did. Hermione was looking at his closely, nodding once in a while, before shooting him a small smile. So he hadn't done _that _bad; what a relief.

When Snape got to Harry's potion, a smirk crossed his face. He looked down at it, peering at it closely. The rest of the class seemed to stop what they were doing, watching Snape as he began to criticize Harry's potion.

"What is this, Potter?" he said calmly.

Harry tensed beside Jack. "The Draught of Peace, sir," he said in a tense voice.

"Tell me Potter, can you read?" Snape said in a simpering voice. "What does the third line of the instructions say?"

Harry frowned, looking at the chalkboard. He strained for a moment, struggling to see through the vapor rising from the cauldrons, then his face fell.

"Oops," he muttered.

"What does it say?" Snape pressed him. "Did you perform everything on the third line?"

"No," Harry murmured. "I forgot to add the hellebore…"

"I know you did," Snape sneered at him. "This… mess is completely worthless without it. _Evenasco._"

He waved his wand, and the contents of Harry's potion disappeared. Jack frowned as Harry let out a sigh, watching all the work he had done over the past hour evaporate into thin air.

"It was just a mistake," Jack spoke up.

The class went dead silent. Harry shot Jack a look as Snape slowly turned to Jack, narrowing his eyes. "Excuse me?" he asked in a deadly voice.

"I said, it was just a mistake," Jack said, unfazed by Snape's formidable attitude. "He obviously has trouble seeing the board, and left out one step. You shouldn't punish him for one mistake."

Snape stepped closer, a cruel smile gracing his pale lips. "That one step has made the potion completely unusable," he said softly. "And if your work is anything to judge by, you obviously know nothing about the fine art of Potion Making. I will let your disrespectful comment slide this one time, seeing as you're a new student, but the next time you step out of line, you will be rewarded with a detention. As it is, twenty-five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your blatant disrespect."

Jack tensed his shoulders, getting ready to shoot out a sarcastic response, when Harry stomped on his foot. The black-haired boy slowly shook his head, not looking at Jack.

Jack shut his mouth, leaning back and simply glaring at the Potions Master.

Snape smirked at him. "For those of you who successfully managed to brew a competent potion, bottle a sample and label it with your name. You are dismissed as soon as you have turned the vial in to me."

He went back to his desk. Jack turned back to his potion, anger coursing through his veins.

"Jack-" Hermione sighed.

"Who does he think he is?" Jack exclaimed. "He could have let Harry try to correct his mistake, or at least given him half-credit, but _no_, he's got to be a slimeball and vanish it all…"

"Don't worry, Jack, I'm used to it," Harry assured him. "Thanks for sticking up for me though. That was really cool of you."

"That was awesome!" Ron chuckled, pouring a sample of his potion into a glass flask. "He looks like he hates you nearly as much as Harry!"

Jack shrugged, carefully bottling his own potion. "It's a gift," he shrugged.

* * *

In Divination, Trelawney nearly had a heart attack when she saw Jack. Then she started spewing all this stuff about his death and the 'Grim' or whatever. Harry looked surprised, but no one made any comment about the obviously crazy lady.

"Is she alright?" Jack asked nervously as the descended the ladder.

"No," Neville said.

"Not at all," Ron agreed.

"I'm surprised with her death predictions, though," Harry said. "Normally it's _me _who gets all that nonsense."

"So I'm not going to die?" Jack asked doubtfully, raising an eyebrow.

Ron chuckled. "She's crazy," he said simply. "She thinks everyone's going to die. Don't worry about it."

They met up with Hermione again in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone looked rather apprehensive about this class, and Jack suspected it was because of the newest professor, Umbridge. She hadn't seemed very pleasant to Jack at the feast, and he wasn't looking forward to sitting through a lesson with her. But surely it couldn't be worse than the fiasco that was Potions.

He was wrong.

Everyone was silent as they filed in, taking their seats. Umbridge stood at the front of the room, smiling that sickeningly sweet smile at them all. Jack sat down in between Harry and Ron at the back of the classroom, watching Umbridge cautiously.

"Why, good afternoon!" Umbridge said once everyone had taken their seats.

There was a murmuring of replies as everyone glanced at each other, unsure of how to react.

Umbridge shook her head, letting out a soft, 'tut, tut, tut'. "Come then," she said sweetly, "that won't do. I expect a more eager response from my newest students! Let's try it again: Good afternoon, class!"

"Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge," Jack recited with the rest of the class, leaning back in his seat and sighing.

"_Very _good," Umbridge said. "Wands away, please."

There was a smattering of concerned whispers as everyone slowly put their wands away. Jack dropped his back in his bag eagerly; as of yet, he had not used it, and he wasn't looking forward to it, either.

"As you all know, I am Professor Umbridge," Umbridge said, flicking her wand. Words appeared on the board: _Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles._

"I understand your teaching in this area hasn't been the most efficient over the years," Umbridge went on, "and I am here to fix that."

Waving her wand again, basic course aims replaced the words on the chalkboard. "You all have acquired a copy of _Defensive Magical Theory,_" she said. "Please turn to page five and read chapter one. Go on, then."

Jack opened his book and looked down at the page. He struggled to get through the first paragraph, but found his mind slipping. All this theoretical nonsense simply _bored _him. He would rather be trying out spells at this point, something he found rather formidable.

Hermione was frowning, her eyes flicking across the pages. Jack found watching her eyes much more interesting than the actual pages; he hadn't known it was possible to read that fast.

Suddenly, Hermione's hand shot into the air. Umbridge stared at her for a moment before answering.

"Yes, Miss…"

"Granger," Hermione said promptly. "I'm sorry, I have a question about your course aims."

The entire class zeroed in on the conversation, apparently as bored by the reading as Jack was. Ron and Harry exchanged incredulous looks as Umbridge smiled at Hermione.

"And what would that be?" she asked in a simpering voice that sent chills up Jack's spine.

"Well, there's nothing there about _doing _defensive magic," Hermione explained, looking slightly confused. "You know, actually practicing it."

"And why would you need to practice it?" Umbridge asked her, cocking her head to the side slightly.

Hermione stared at her. "Well, to protect ourselves," she said as though pointing out the obvious- which, indeed, she was.

"And why would you need to do that?" Umbridge pushed. "The Ministry has created a safe world for you all to live in; there should be no reason for you to have to defend yourselves."

Harry spoke up. "But we still might need it!" he explained.

Umbridge looked at him sharply. "I would thank you to raise your hand if you have a question or comment," she said to him.

Harry raised his hand. Umbridge ignored him.

Dean raised his hand. "But what about our O.W.L's?" he asked. "There will be a practical examination; how will we pass if we've never performed the spells?"

"If you have studied the material thoroughly, there should be no problem performing them," Umbridge said, her tone sharpening slightly. "Now if you would please continue-"

"You mean we're going to have to perform spells we've never used before?" Lavender Brown asked incredulously.

"As long as the theory is there-"

"Theory won't help in the real world!" Harry said. "What if we really need to defend ourselves?"

"Defend yourselves from _what_?" Umbridge shot at him.

"Oh, I don't know," Harry said in a sarcastic voice. "Maybe _Lord Voldemort_?"

The class went silent. Neville let out a soft gasp and fell out of his seat. The rest of the students paled, and Umbridge straightened as though she had been electrocuted.

"Ten points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter," Umbridge said quietly. Clearing her throat, she continued to the rest of the class, "You have been told that You-Know-Who has risen once again. This is a lie. The Ministry has ascertained that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is gone, and will not rise again. All this nonsense about him coming back from the dead-"

"It's not nonsense!" Harry exclaimed. "I _saw _him, he was there, in the graveyard, I fought him-!"

"This is a lie!" Umbridge said sharply.

"It's not a lie!" Harry yelled. "It's the truth-"

"Detention, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge exclaimed. "Five o'clock tomorrow, my office."

"Why are you giving him detention?" Jack spoke up. "He's telling the truth!"

Umbridge's eyes flashed. "He is _not, _Mr…."

"Jack Frost," Jack said shortly. "And he isn't lying; why would he lie about something like this?"

"Do not ask me to fathom the thought process of Mr. Potter!" Umbridge said. "Now please, return to your reading!"

"Reading isn't going to help us!" Jack said. "If there really is someone out there to get us, we'll need to know how to defend ourselves-"

"You will join Mr. Potter in detention tomorrow!" Umbridge said sharply.

"So how do you explain Cedric Diggory's death?" Harry said, not ready to let the conversation drop.

Jack remembered Hermione telling him about the student who had died in the tournament last year; he had been killed by Voldemort in the graveyard.

"Cedric Diggory's death was a tragic accident that is deeply regretted," Umbridge said, narrowing her eyes.

"An _accident_? How on earth could it be-"

"Silence, Mr. Potter!" Umbridge screeched at him. She took a deep breath before plastering a smile on her face. Grabbing a sheet of pink paper, she scribbled something onto it. "Take this to Professor McGonagall," she said, holding it out for him.

Harry stood up and stomped to the front of the classroom. Snatching the paper from her, he turned and walked out of the classroom without another word.

Umbridge spoke into the sudden silence as soon as Harry was gone. "Chapter one," she said quietly. "Read."

* * *

"That lady's crazy," Ron muttered as they stepped out of the classroom. "Ruddy crazy."

"I hope Harry isn't in too much trouble," Hermione said worriedly, clutching her books close to her.

"I can't believe I got detention," Jack said glumly, scuffing at the ground. "This stinks."

"At least you didn't get sent to McGonagall's office," Ron pointed out.

"Jack!"

Jack looked over his shoulder to see Luna hurrying towards him. Turning to the other two, he waved them on. "I'll meet you in the Great Hall," he said. "We should talk to Harry anyways."

When they were gone, he stopped to let Luna catch up to him. "Hey, Luna," he greeted her, smiling. "How was your first day of classes?"

"Oh, alright," Luna said airily. She reached into her pocket, fishing around for something. "You dropped this," she said, holding out his staff.

Eyes widening, Jack thrust his hand into his pocket. Drawing up a blank, he reached out to take the miniature object, eyebrows drawn with worry.

"Thanks so much Luna," he said gratefully, tightening his grip around it. "You have no idea how much this means."

"Hmmm," Luna hummed, "I expect I do. You wouldn't want to lose that."

Jack blinked at her. "Um… no…" How was he going to keep from losing it? He had to think of something if it fell out of his pocket so easily. He was just lucky Luna had been the one to find it. He didn't know what he would do without his staff.

"I have something that could help you," Luna said lightly. She reached back into her pocket and pulled out a small chain. "Here you go," she said, holding it out.

Jack took it, frowning slightly. "A necklace?" he asked hesitantly. "I don't know, Luna…"

"No, look," Luna insisted. She snatched the chain and the staff from him, holding one in both hands. "You just touch them together like this…" she pressed the crook of the staff to the middle of the chain. "_Tritero_," she said softly. Jack watched in disbelief as the necklace looped around the staff, forming a tight knot around it that looked like it would never come off. He carefully took it back, tugging lightly on the staff.

"But-"

"It won't fall off," Luna explained, "and it won't break. To get it off the chain, all you need to say is '_Ritara_'. My father gave it to me for my birthday, but you seem to have more need of it then I do."

Smiling slightly, Jack slipped the necklace over his shoulder. Tucking the staff under his robes, he grinned at Luna.

"Thanks, Luna," he said gratefully. "This means a lot."

Luna watched him with her bulbous, disconcerting gaze. "I know," she said quietly. "You have to be careful, Jack. It wouldn't do to reveal your secrets to everybody."

And she turned and walked away, leaving a completely bewildered Jack behind her.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry for the slow update! These are kind of hard to write; I want to try and stay true to the book and weave Jack in at the same time. And I changed up a lot of the conversations and stuff so it wasn't just a repeat of stuff in the books.**

**If you'll notice, I put the disclaimer at the top of this chapter. Stupid me, I forgot for the rest, but I'm not J.K. Rowling or a producer. I'm just a teenage girl who thought this would be interesting, and don't own these stories or characters.**

**Thanks for the reviews and for reading! Please leave a comment for this chapter!**

**Xoxo,**

**Kayla**


	5. Detention of the Worst Kind

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Rise of the Guardians.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Detention of the Worst Kind**

"Hey, Jack!"

Jack glanced back over his shoulder, one foot on the dormitory staircase. Harry was waving to him from across the common room, gesturing for him to join Ron, Hermione, and Harry in their seats next to the fire.

Slightly surprised, but pleasantly so (it was quite nice to be included), Jack turned and strolled over to where they were sitting. He stopped a few feet away from them and the flickering fire, his bag swinging from his shoulder.

"Have a seat," Ron said, gesturing to the fourth empty armchair. "We were just going over some of our homework. Honestly, it's the first day, what are the bloody teachers thinking?"

Jack glanced at the chair and had to hold back a wince. The trio had scored the prime spots in the Gryffindor common room, the set of armchairs directly next to the fireplace. That was all well and jolly for them, but even from this distance Jack could feel the heat prickling on his pale skin. But he didn't want to pass up the chance to get on better terms with the three, who seemed to be making an effort to become friends with him. So, eyeing the fireplace uncertainly, he carefully lowered himself into the chair, setting his bag down.

"Oh, stop complaining, Ron," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. Pushing a strand of frizzy brown hair out of her face, she waggled her quill at him. "You know well enough that you were given hardly any homework-"

"It's the first _day, _Hermione-"

"And you're going to suck it up and do it," Hermione went on as though Ron hadn't even spoken. "Go on, then, you've been sitting with that Divination homework for ten minutes without making a dent in it."

Grumbling under his breath, Ron threw a scowl down at the paper in his lap. "'Use _Unfogging the Future, _by Cassandra Vablatsky, to characterize the key components of the following dream: Two men are walking down a windy, foggy path at twelve after one in the morning…'" He trailed off, blinking at the page. "It's bloody nonsense!"

"I told you to drop the course," Hermione chastised him absentmindedly. "You should have taken up something more worthwhile, like Arithmancy or Study of Ancient Runes-"

"How dull," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

"Need any help with anything, Jack?" Harry asked the winter spirit, who had been watching the two bicker with mounting amusement.

"Hmm?" Jack asked, tearing his eyes away from the oddly familiar, useless arguments. He remembered countless bickering of the same type between him and Bunny, and the memory drew both a smile and a slight pang in his stomach out of him. "Oh- no, I think I've got it," he said, leaning down to rifle in his bag for his own work.

"That was quite some Divination lesson," Harry said, leaning back in his seat and raising his eyebrows at Jack.

Jack let out a small snort. "You're telling me. Is she always…"

"Strange?" Harry offered.

"A complete lunatic?" Ron added.

"Completely batty," Jack nodded.

"Yes, she is," Harry finished. "It was kind of strange seeing her attention on someone besides me, but it was quite refreshing."

"Why?" Hermione asked, looking up from her Ancient Runes review. "What happened?"

"You haven't heard?" Ron asked, glancing over at her. When she shook her head, he dropped his quill, seemingly eager for an excuse to procrastinate on his homework. "Trelawney nearly had a heart attack when Jack walked in. You know her, she has a fascination with death, but she seemed real keen on him dying. Even more than Harry, and you know how that was. The old bat's mental. Anyways, she was going on and on about the feeling of death that followed Jack, and the Grim, and all her usual stuff. Jack looked so confused, it was actually quite funny," he said, shooting an apologetic grin at Jack.

Harry's lips twitched at the memory of it, and Jack waggled his eyebrows playfully, but Hermione's frown grew as she listened to the story. A small crease formed between her eyes.

"Hmmm," she said thoughtfully. "Strange…"

She rounded on Jack, who jumped a bit as her eyes looked at him sharply. "Why do you think she targeted you specifically?" she asked inquisitively.

Jack wiped his hands on his robes as perspiration began to coat them with a thin sheen of sweat. Already the fire was making him feel claustrophobic, and he yearned to rip off those stupid shoes North had shoved on his feet. How did people _wear _these things?

"I don't know," he said, trying to appear as clueless as possible- it wasn't very hard. He wasn't totally sure why she had reacted the way he did, unless it was just a big joke put on by the professor. And somehow, he doubted that.

"It's cause he's the new student, 'Mione," Ron said, looking slightly taken-aback by her serious attitude. "She needs renewed interest in the class, the only people who actually like her are Lavender and Parvati."

Hermione frowned for another moment at Jack before sitting back in her seat. "You're right," she said, although doubt still tinted her words. "I'm sorry, Jack, it's just… funny."

"It's alright," Jack said, watching her out of the corner of his eye. "I understand."

There was a lull in conversation. Hermione bent back over her work, scribbling furiously, while Harry and Ron simply stared at their papers, once in a while jabbing at it with their quills.

"So that Umbridge woman," Jack finally said, if only to break the awkward silence that had crept over the group. "She's uh… well…"

Hermione looked up from her work, her eyes flashing. "She's foul," she said in a low, matter-of-fact voice.

Ron let out a small gasp of shock. "Her_mione_," he said, putting a hand to his chest and raising an eyebrow. "Did you just _insult _a _professor_?"

"Oh, come off it, Ron," Hermione snapped at him. "You saw her! She's ministry-bred, through and through; they don't want us to learn anything at all, and it looks like they're going to succeed!"

Harry clenched his jaw, the dancing firelight flashing off his glasses. "I still can't believe Fudge is so blatantly denying Voldemort's back," he said quietly. "And then actually sending someone into Hogwarts to reinforce the idea- he's mad."

"Yes, but it will do you no good to argue with her," Hermione said, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Harry flushed. "You heard her, Hermione! I had to say _something-_"

"Harry, I don't trust her!" Hermione said sharply, her voice going up in pitch. "She's dangerous, I can just feel it, and I don't like the idea of you and Jack going into detention with her!"

"It was bloody good of you, though, mate," Ron said, looking over at Jack. "Defending Harry like that, I mean. You haven't even known us a day, and you're already getting yourself landed into detention because of us."

"Eh," Jack said, waving him off. "It was nothing. Besides, I was sure to get myself into detention sooner or later. I'm not exactly _well-behaved_…"

"That's the best type, though, isn't it?" Ron said, grinning around at his friends. "Breaking some rules is healthy."

"Ron, you are a _prefect_," Hermione hissed.

"And we still don't know how that happened," Ron pointed out.

"Oh, you-"

Jack tuned out their fighting this time, shifting in his seat. He looked at the fire, the flames licking over the logs. Three hundred years of staying outside in the snow had _not _prepared him for sitting by a fire; yes, he had done it occasionally with the Guardians, but they all understood if he needed to get up and back away for a few minutes to cool off. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, however, would find it odd if he suddenly jumped out of his seat and hopped away simply for the sake of getting away from the fire. Normal humans actually liked warmth. Nonetheless, he could feel the heat rolling towards in him waves, coating him. He tugged at the woolen collar of his robes, and bit down on the inside of his cheek. His skin was heating up, a very uncomfortable experience for Jack.

"Jack? Are you alright?"

Jack snapped his gaze from the fire to see Harry watching him with concern. Both Hermione and Ron cut off their bickering, glancing over to see Jack in a right state by the fire.

His normally pale skin was slightly flushed, and he looked fidgety and uncomfortable. He was tapping his foot incessantly on the ground, and was sitting ram-rod straight in his seat.

"I'm fine," he said, struggling to keep his voice light even as he rubbed his hands nonchalantly against his robes.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, frowning again. She turned in her seat to face him, and he was surprised to see a faint line of worry between her brow. "You don't look that good. Would you like to go lie down?"

Jack recognized the chance for escape, and jumped on it. "You know, maybe I will," he said quietly. "I, er- it's been a long day, and I'm tired…"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Trelawney, Snape, and Umbridge all on your first day- you deserve a break."

"It's got to be rough," Hermione said sympathetically. "I expect you're used to homeschooling."

Jack blinked at her for a second, lost. Homeschooling? Then he remembered his supposed 'backstory', and shook his head lightly. "Oh, yeah," he agreed, nodding. "It's just… all the hustle and bustle…" He shot another look at the fire before leaping to his feet. "I think I'll retire for the night," he said. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine," Harry said, waving him off. "We'll see you tomorrow, hmm?"

"Yeah," Jack agreed, smiling lightly. "Thanks."

"Feel better, mate!" Ron called after him as he scooped up his bag and hurried to the stairs.

As he hastened away from the fire, the sense of claustrophobia diminished, and he felt that he could breathe again. Tucking his bag under one thin arm, he took the stairs two at a time, practically sprinting up to the dormitory.

Once inside, he tossed his stuff haphazardly onto his bed, not pausing in his walk. He strode over to the window and threw it open, throwing his head into the open air.

He took in gulps of fresh, cool air, feeling relief wash over him. He leaned out so far it would be dangerous for any normal student, but it served to invigorate the spirit, cooling his warmed skin.

Letting out a sigh, he leaned his head on his fist, shutting his eyes. He wished he could have stayed down there; it was nice to be treated as an ordinary teenager for once in his life. But fire and Jack simply didn't mix, especially when he was sitting in the armchair only a few inches away from it. He only hoped they wouldn't find it suspicious… he could already tell Hermione was going to be a problem. She seemed friendly enough, but highly questioning. And she seemed to have targeted Jack as the one to investigate.

She seemed set on finding out his secrets, so Jack had to be equally determined to keep them hidden.

He scowled at nothing in particular. This was going to be a hard year.

* * *

Down in the common room, Hermione watched Jack sprint away from them. She looked until the edge of his robes had disappeared upstairs, and even then she continued to stare at the empty steps.

"Poor bloke," she heard Ron say behind her. "Sick on the first day…"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Maybe he'll be too ill to go to detention, though. I hate that he's there because of me…"

Hermione pushed their voices to the back of her mind, pondering the case of Jack Frost. And what a case it was. Harry and Ron acted like he was completely normal, but something about the teen unsettled Hermione.

He was nice, no doubt about that; Hermione thought he was quite kind and funny. But something held her back from wholeheartedly accepting him. Did no one find it odd that he had simply dropped out of the sky, it seemed, landing right in the middle of Hogwarts? He, with his snow-white hair despite his young age, and skin as pale as snow? And his name; that was definitely not an ordinary name, even in the Wizarding World.

She turned her quill over in her hands, feeling the feather softly brush against her skin. Jack Frost was hiding something, that was for sure. Something was off with him.

And Hermione was going to find out what.

* * *

"Don't do anything rash," Hermione warned in a low undertone as she, Harry, Jack, and Ron hurried down the corridor. "Even if she tries to make you mad-"

"We'll be fine, Hermione," Harry said in a tight voice. "It's just detention. It's not like I haven't had _those _before…"

It was 4:55, and nearly all the students were back in their common rooms. The four hastened down the corridor towards Umbridge's office. Hermione threw out little bits of advice along the way.

"Yes, but not like this," she hissed.

They came upon the closed door. Jack frowned at it, reaching one hand up instinctively to finger the shrunken staff hanging around his neck.

"They can't-er- torture people here, can they?" he asked lightly. He hadn't been very worried about detention, but now that he was actually here, he couldn't help the apprehension that dawned on him then. He had never been to school, let alone _detention_- but he'd better get used to it, because at this rate, he'd be there quite a lot this year.

"Torture was banned in 1705," Hermione said promptly.

"_That _makes me feel better," Jack muttered.

The ground to a halt. Jack stared at the door, biting his lower lip, and Harry's hands were clenched tightly. Hermione and Ron exchanged awkward looks.

"Well," Hermione said lightly, "you'd best go in. You don't want to be late. Good luck."

"See you on the other side," Ron said cheerfully as he and Hermione turned and walked back down the corridor.

Harry and Jack glanced at each other. Harry appeared to be steeling himself- probably to keep his temper. Jack had to remember to keep his own in check; it wouldn't do to be expelled on his second day. He would never hear the end of it from Bunny.

"You ready?" Harry asked.

Jack threw a grin at him. "You kidding? I was born ready," he said, sounding more confident than he felt.

Harry raised his hand and knocked on the door twice.

Almost immediately, a high-pitched, girly voice called, "Come in!"

Harry pushed the door opened, and the two boys stepped inside.

Jack's immediate impression of Umbridge's office was of a Barbie house. A very, very pink one.

The stone walls were painted a pale pink, and all of the furniture in the office was covered with lacy doilies. Cats hung everywhere, and covered the walls, all moving and blinking out at Jack with huge painted eyes. The room smelled heavily of flowers, and Jack felt it was going to suffocate him. A fire roared in the fireplace, warming the place considerately, and Jack could already tell he was going to hate detention.

Umbridge herself stood behind her desk, smiling at them with her stupid pointed little teeth. She gestured in front of her to a table with two chairs.

"Mr. Frost, Mr. Potter," she greeted silkily. "Please, have a seat."

Jack dropped his bag beside the chair and slowly lowered himself into it. Beside him, Harry did the same.

"Welcome," Umbridge went on. "As you two know, you are here to perform detention for the _outlandish _comments you made in my class on Monday."

She let out a small giggle, and Jack had to bite down on his tongue to keep from giving her a snarky reply- or, better yet, send a jet of snow at her. Maybe enough to push her out the window, it depended on how tired he was.

"You will be here for the next week," she continued.

Harry sat up straight in his chair, inhaling sharply. "All week?" he asked.

Umbridge turned to him, still smiling cheerfully. "Yes, I believe a week shall be sufficient," she said quietly, daring him to continue.

Jack through a look at Harry, who looked conflicted. Harry's eyes darted to meet Jack's for a nanosecond, and Jack could tell he had other plans.

"Um- Professor Umbridge," he said in a low voice, sounding as if this pained him, "I- well, I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you see, and I'm supposed to be at Keeper try-outs on Friday."

Umbridge stared at him with a blank expression.

"I- er, do you think I could maybe skip detention on Friday and do it- do it another time," Harry faltered as Umbridge's smile slowly grew. Jack could see it was a lost cause.

"Oh, no, Mr. Potter," she said softly. "This is a punishment, you see. What better way for you to learn?"

Harry clenched his jaw and slowly sank back into his seat. Jack swallowed, feeling bad for his friend.

"What will we be doing?" he asked, sticking his chin stubbornly into the air as Umbridge turned her gaze to him.

"Lines," she said simply.

Jack felt relief set in. Was that all? Feeling a lot better than before, he reached down for his bag to get a quill, Harry mimicking him in the other chair.

"Oh, no," Umbridge interrupted them. "There won't be need for that. You'll be using some very… _special _quills of mine?"

She reached under her desk and drew out two sheets of paper. Sliding them across the desk to them, she opened a drawer and pulled out two long, thin black quills. The unusually sharp ends glinted in the light from the fireplace as she handed them to the boys.

"You must both write _I must not tell lies_ for those foolish, attention-seeking stories you were telling," she said lightly, smiling sweetly at them. "I do hope you learn your lesson."

Jack felt Harry tense beside him. He shot the other a warning look, silently telling him not to lose his temper, and reached for the quill.

"You haven't given us any ink," Harry said shortly, snatching his quill from her.

"Oh, you won't need any ink," Umbridge said pleasantly before retreating back to her desk and sitting down.

Harry frowned down at the quill, turning it over in his hands. He glanced at Jack, and together they shrugged before setting the quill to the paper.

Slowly, Jack scribbled down the lines in his untidy, loopy handwriting.

_I must not tell lies._

Strangely, the letters appeared in dark, shining red ink. Halfway through, Jack had to stop and flex his hand, which was already starting to hurt. Strange, he shouldn't be getting cramps this early in the punishment. Maybe it was a wizard thing.

Next to him, Harry breathed in sharply, his quill stopping abruptly. At the same time, Jack let out a gasp of pain, the quill slipping from his fingertips.

As the shining ink appeared on the paper, the words themselves seemed to be carving themselves into the back of Jack's hand, into his pale skin. _I must not tell lies _glinted on his hand, gently dripping blood, as though they had been carved in by a knife. He shot a panicked look at Harry's hand to see the exact same thing had happened to it, and the Boy-Who-Lived was staring down at it, horrified, and his hand _burned_, it stung, the words were carving deep into his skin-

"Is there a problem?"

Jack looked up to see Umbridge there, still smiling pleasantly. He narrowed his eyes at her into a glare filled with as much hate as he could, but she seemed completely unfazed.

His hand prickled. Jack noted with surprise that even as he turned to look at Umbridge, the words had healed, leaving his skin irritated but smooth again.

"No," Harry said tightly next to him. "There's no problem."

Umbridge smirked. "Good," she said sweetly, turning back to her papers.

Jack knew what Harry was doing. He was refusing to show Umbridge that she was getting to them; he didn't want her to have the satisfaction of seeing them squirm. Jack nodded to himself, agreeing with Harry's logic. If they were going to have to sit here and carve words into their own skin, they weren't going to let her enjoy any more than the toad already was.

Setting the quill back down to the page, Jack scribbled under the first line, _I must not tell lies._

He had to stop himself from clenching his fist as the words appeared again, but this time inspected the ink. When he realized what it was, he had to stop himself from getting up and jumping out the window right then.

He was writing in his own blood.

Taking another deep breath, Jack set the quill down and continued, etching the line into his skin for the third time.

And it went on. And on. And on. The only sounds in the office was the fire gently crackling, the scratching of the blood quills, and the occasional 'Hem hem' from Umbridge. Jack had grown accustomed to the pain by now, but he was now simply restraining himself from yanking his staff off the chain and using it to blast Umbridge all the way to Antarctica.

Then, after what seemed like days but was really only an hour or two, Umbridge said, "Come here."

Jack laid the quill down, swallowing thickly. His hand stung and smarted, and the skin was lobster red, something Jack had never seen before. Cold sweat ran down his back in rivulets, and he felt warm and trapped in here, faced with so many cats staring at him.

He pushed his chair back and got to his feet. His muscles protested, and he winced slightly as he stretched, trailing after Harry as he walked over to Umbridge.

She inspected Harry's hand, making small 'tut tut tut' noises under her breath before extending a pudgy, ring-covered hand out towards Jack. Feeling revolted about the fact that he even had to touch the woman, Jack reluctantly let him seize his hand.

Immediately, she gasped and released it. Jumping slightly, Jack drew his hand back to his chest, frowning at her. An edge of worry crept over his thoughts, and he knew what must have happened; a brief slip of his concentration and temper had sent a wave of cold washing through his hand. It had obviously shocked the toad-woman, and though Jack knew he could easily take her if it came down to a fight, he kind of wanted to stay at Hogwarts more than a couple of days, and he didn't think he could do that if all the students knew he was an immortal spirit, the embodiment of winter. He was supposed to be _normal _here.

Umbridge's eyes met Jack's, trapping her in his gaze. She narrowed her eyes sharply, suspicion crossing over them.

"It appears the message has not yet sunk in," she said in a tight voice. "I shall see both of you here tomorrow, same time. You may go."

Jack immediately turned, grabbed his bag, and was out the door, leaving behind nothing but a slight chill in the air. Harry quickly grabbed his own stuff and hurried out after Jack, who was stalking down the corridor.

"Jack!" he hissed, catching up with the spirit.

"She's evil," Jack growled. "Sadistic, evil little toad. I swear, I will-" he caught himself before he could slip up and give anything away.

"I know," Harry agreed. He slowed down slightly, and Jack was forced to ease up lest he leave Harry behind.

"I thought torture wasn't allowed here," Jack shot at him.

"Yes, well, Umbridge doesn't seem to be one to play by the rules," Harry said sharply.

Jack absentmindedly rubbed his hand, which still felt odd.

Harry hesitated before speaking again. "What _was _that?" he asked.

"What was what?" Jack asked, flipping his lanky white hair out of his eyes to see more clearly. "You'll have to be a bit more specific."

"When she touched you, it was like you shocked her, or burned her," Harry specified. "Why?"

Jack clenched his jaw. "I don't know," he lied. "I think we've already ascertained that Umbridge is crazy. Maybe she sensed the cosmetic waves coming off my skin, or she, being who she is, couldn't bear to touch someone as awesome as me." Jack smirked at Harry, who just looked at him with amusement.

"No, that can't be," he mused. "She was fine with touching me."

Jack let out a small laugh. "Touché," he said. Then, his smile died slightly. "We can't tell anyone."

Harry stared straight ahead. "I know," he said quietly.

"I'm not going to let her think I was complaining," Jack continued. "I don't care what she does to me, but she's not going to get that satisfaction, no matter how small it is."

"I agree," Harry murmured.

So that was why, when Ron asked them what they had done in detention back in the common room, Harry replied easily, "Lines."

"Oh," Hermione said, laying down her quill and smiling. "Well, that's not too bad, is it?"

Harry and Jack exchanged quick looks.

"Nope," Jack said, grinning down at her. "Not bad at all."

* * *

Six o'clock the next morning found Jack sitting in his bed, dangling his bare feet over the side. Everyone else was still sound asleep, and would be for the next half hour until they had to wake up for breakfast. Jack had been up all night, pondering everything he had learned so far and silently thinking of ways he could cause trouble for Umbridge.

He had quite a bit of fun with that.

Jack glanced over at the bed that belonged to one Seamus Finnigan, feeling a frown settle on his face. He had been quite peeved the night before when he had heard Seamus mutter to another Gryffindor something about Harry deserving detention for the outlandish lies he had been telling in Umbridge's office. Jack had been positively steaming by the time he finished by remarking that Harry was 'crazy'.

Jack had promptly tapped his robes and covered them in a layer of frost while he had been sleeping.

That would trip him up in the morning.

He leaned back in his bed, stretching out across the freezing sheets. Neville was bundled up in at least four blankets, and Jack felt bad. He wished he didn't make it so cold, but his normal body temperature, combined with the fact he had been frosting things last night, had made for a rather chilly room.

Jack glanced longingly at Baby Tooth's empty cage. The little fairy had taken off last night, chirping at the top of her lungs, and hadn't returned since. Jack could only wonder as to where she was, and he dearly wished she would come back. It would be nice to have someone to talk to at the moment. Someone who actually knew who he was.

There was a scratch on the window. Scowling, Jack turned on his side, resting his head on his arm and picking at the bed sheets.

His hand was back to normal again, the skin pale and smooth, but he had a feeling it wouldn't be so for very long. Spirits didn't injure easily, but it was obvious that quill was enchanted with dark magic. He knew it was only a matter of time before the skin stopped healing over, and he was left with some permanent scars. He would have a lot to explain for if the Guardians happened to notice.

There was another tap on the window. Frowning, Jack poked his head up to see what was out there.

To his surprise, he saw Baby Tooth hovering there, pecking at the glass. Jack hopped off the bed and hurried over, jerking on the latch and pulling the window open.

"Baby Tooth," he whispered as the fairy chirped in front of him. "There you are!"

Baby Tooth waved something in front of his face. Blinking quizzically, Jack reached for the piece of paper dangling in front of his eyes. There was a faint crackling sound, and looking back at the latch, he realized with a wince he had frosted it solid.

He glanced at Baby Tooth. "Don't look at me that way, it was an accident," he said quietly, lightly hopping back over to his bed.

Baby Tooth chirped something softly to herself before fluttering over to rest on Jack's shoulder, looking down at the envelope he held in his hands.

On the front of the envelope was his name, written in elegant, flowing handwriting. He tore it open and pulled out a piece of cream-colored paper covered in the same writing. Curious, he began to read.

_Dear Jack,_

_How are you? I hope everything is going well at Hogwarts. Oh, I'm sure it is, though, you'll do excellent there. North tell me he got everything sorted out for you in Diagon Alley, but I couldn't help but worry. Is everyone nice there? Are the teachers alright? Are you getting enough to eat? Are you brushing your teeth?_

_Things are dull back at the Pole without you. Bunny hasn't fought with anyone for the past week, and it's already getting to him. He won't admit it, but he misses you; we all do. You'll be home for Christmas, right? I'll try to stop by if I get the chance before then, if someone loses a tooth, but I can't risk being seen._

_Baby Tooth came by this morning as I was writing out the letter, which was a pleasant surprise. I was actually just wondering how I was going to get it to you, but I suppose she decided it was time you got a letter. I'm glad you have her with you. It makes me feel better about you being in that castle, all alone…_

_But of course you're not alone, I'm sure you've made tons of friends! I'd love to hear about them. Well, I'd just love to hear from you. Write back and tell me everything that's happened so far! Remember to keep your secret, and remember to floss!_

_I'll see you soon!_

_Sincerely,_

_Tooth_

Jack was grinning like an idiot by the time he finished. It was so nice to hear from one of the Guardians it made Jack's chest ache. He realized now that he was homesick, something he found quite bizarre. Just a year ago, he hadn't had a home to be sick _for_, and now here he was, aching for any scrap of correspondence from the _Guardians, _the people who had thought him a nuisance for years. And Tooth had asked him to come home for Christmas. _Home. _

Oh, how time changed things.

Carefully folding the letter, Jack leaned down and slipped it into his trunk. Grabbing a new sheet of paper and a quill, Jack set to work writing his response.

_Dear Tooth,_

_Thanks for the letter! Everything's going great at Hogwarts. Everyone's just swell here, and of course I'm brushing and getting enough to eat. They have enchanted tables here; I couldn't starve if I wanted to!_

_I've made a couple of friends, and it's real nice being around people my own age. And, you know, not being invisible is cool too. Luna's a little… odd, but she's been a real help. Neville's really fun to be around, even if he is a little awkward, and Hermione's going to be a big help with homework this year. Harry and Ron have both been real friendly too._

_I was sorted into Gryffindor, the house for the courageous and brave. Things are complicated here, Tooth, but I think I'm getting the hang of it. It's weird being seen by everyone, and not being able to use my powers sucks. But I've started working on basic spells, so I'll be able to show you some magic when I get back._

_Of course I'll be coming home for Christmas. What better place to celebrate than the North Pole?_

_Baby Tooth's smart. I'm relieved she's here as well._

_I've got to be going, people are going to start waking up soon. I'd love another letter in the future, if you have time._

_I'll remember to floss._

_-Jack_

He quickly folded the letter and scrawled Tooth's name on the front. Holding it to Baby Tooth, he grinned at her hopefully. "Hey, Baby Tooth, could you…?"

Baby Tooth chirped before grabbing the paper. Hopping into the air, she fluttered over to the open window, pausing only to salute to Jack once before taking off into the air.

There was a stirring around the room as slowly the others started waking up. Harry sat up, blinking blankly at the wall, a faint frown creasing his forehead. Seamus slid out of bed, still half-asleep, and reached down for his robes.

"I- what the-?" he said, shaking his head to wake himself up. Eyes wide, he reached down to pick up his robes, turning them over in his hands.

"Why are my robes frozen?"

Jack shut his eyes, a faint smile playing on his face.


	6. Self-Administered Revenge

**Chapter Six: Self-Administered Revenge**

On Thursday, the wounds stopped healing over.

Harry and Jack walked out of Umbridge's office, cradling their bloody hands close to their chests. Harry was glaring sharply at the floor while Jack examined his hand, shocked. The words _I must not tell lies _were still there, glistening red in the little light streaming in from the windows.

He had waited expectantly for the words to heal after what had seemed like the millionth line. And he waited. After maybe half a minute, he had begun to get frightened, glancing to his right only to see Harry staring straight back at him, white as a ghost.

Umbridge had simply smiled sweetly at them, informed them they would have to return tomorrow, and sent them on their way.

"Well this sucks," Jack said to break the silence.

Harry shot him a look. "You don't say?" he snarled.

Jack shoved his hand in his pocket, not able to bear the sight of his sliced hand anymore. "No need to be so moody," he said lightly, scuffing the floor with his shoe. He tried to wiggle his toes, and frowned sharply when he was unable to.

"I'm not being moody," Harry muttered moodily.

"Hey, perk up!" Jack said cheerfully, shooting Harry a large grin. "We only have one more detention after this!"

"Yes, because it can get so much worse than this," said Harry sarcastically, holding up his bloody hand.

"You never know," Jack murmured under his breath.

They walked in silence, each of them thinking their own dark thoughts. Jack felt equally curious and appalled over his hand; while it had been a painful and annoying detention, he had never thought it would leave permanent scarring. At least, not on him; he was, after all, immortal. Immortals healed over much quicker than mortals and could withstand more than them. However, this quill was obviously infused with dark magic, which Jack supposed must have done it. With the right spellwork it could hurt even _him_, and that was saying something.

"Ron?"

Jack snapped out of his thoughts to find that Harry had stopped. Glancing over curiously at a statue of a wizened old witch, he saw Ron pressed against the wall there, attempting to hide what looked like a broomstick behind his back.

"Harry!" he said in the obvious tone of someone who'd been caught. "Jack! What are you doing out?"

"Coming back from detention," Harry said slowly, eyeing the broom suspiciously. "What are _you _doing?"

Ron blinked, his ears turning red. "I- er- I was taking a stroll."

"With your broom?" Jack asked, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Yes?" said Ron weakly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, what's up?"

Ron kicked at the floor with the tip of his shoe, glancing at his feet. "You'll laugh," he muttered.

"Try us," Jack suggested, his tone challenging.

Ron took a deep breath. "I'mtryingoutforKeeper," he said quickly.

Both Harry and Jack stared at him blankly. "Sorry, again?" Harry asked.

Ron took a deep breath. "I'm trying out for Keeper," he said in a slower voice. He straightened up defensively, eyeing his two friends wearily.

"That's great!" Harry said, looking surprised but happy. Ron just looked surprised.

"Really?" he asked, sounding a bit more confident.

"Yeah!" Harry said, grinning over at Jack.

"Oh- yeah, that's fantastic!" Jack said, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Yeah, you're going to be Keeper, and keep… um… the stuff that needs to be kept… in the try-outs! Ron, the Keeper of stuff!"

He felt pretty proud of his analysis of the term 'Keeper', but all he got were incredulous stares in return.

"What?" he asked, looking back and forth between the two gaping mouth.

"Do you have any idea what Quidditch is?" Harry asked, cocking his head to the side and frowning.

"Er… no," Jack admitted sheepishly. "What is it, a disease?"

"Disease?" Ron spluttered, eyes wide. "It's only the best sport in the world! There's four balls and you're up on broomstick and-"

"Broomstick?" asked Jack, taken aback. "You mean, like a witch's broomstick?"

"Yes," said Ron impatiently.

Jack's eyes lit up. "Those things are real?" he asked in disbelief. "That's awesome! I've seen stories about witches, but I never thought- neat, does that thing fly?"

He reached out for Ron's broom, eager to test it. He could fly by himself, of course, but it would be cool to see what it felt like to fly with the aid of something else. He had always been mesmerized by planes, but had never gotten the chance to try one out.

Ron kept the broom out of Jack's reach, shooting him an amused look. His expression dripped off his face, however, when he saw Jack's hand.

"Blimey!" he said, reaching out to snatch Jack's wrist. "What'd you do to your hand?"

Jack caught his breath, realizing what he had done. Yanking his hand back, he shoved it in his pocket. "It's nothing," he said quickly.

"Nothing?" Ron said doubtfully. He turned to Harry, who was watching silently. "You saw his hand, right? Tell him we should have a look at it!"

Harry stared at Ron blankly for a second, looking as though he was struggling with what to do. "He can take care of it," he said finally. "I'm sure it's nothing, like he said."

Ron gave him an incredulous look of disbelief. Narrowing his eyes, he said, "Let me see _your_ hand."

A panicked look flashed across Harry's face. "No!" he exclaimed, too defensive for Jack's taste. He sighed; didn't Harry know the first rule of lying? Don't act too defensive, and don't respond too fast. He had just broken both of those, and Ron would probably pick up on it.

Just like Jack thought he would, Ron just redoubled his efforts. "Harry," he said in a low voice, "let me see your hand."

Harry shot a look at Jack. The spirit just shrugged resignedly, nodding his head.

Harry drew his hand out of his pocket and held it out to Ron.

Ron examined it for a moment, his face clear of an expression. Without a word he turned to Jack, who dutifully held out his own arm, showing him the cuts. In the dim light flickering off of the candles set into the wall, the wound shone, glistening with the still damp blood.

"You said she was just giving you lines," Ron said slowly.

"Well," Jack said, frowning slightly, "they are still lines. Just not- you know- _traditional _ones."

"That bloody cow is using you two as a knife sharpener!" Ron hissed.

"That's a horrid thought," Jack said, wrinkling his nose.

"Come on," Ron said, spinning sharply on his heel, "we're going to go get Hermione."

"Ron-" Harry started, looking ready to argue.

"No!" Ron protested firmly. "This isn't right. Someone needs to knock some sense into you, and Hermione's perfect for the job. Let's _go._"

He set off down the hallway at a fast pace, his long legs helping him take larger steps. Harry had to break into a trot to catch up with him, but Jack had no problem keeping up with Ron, although he struggled to keep his feet on the ground.

They reached the common room in record time. "Figgy warts," Ron snapped impatiently at the Fat Lady.

She made an indignant look at him. "No need to have that attitude," she murmured, swinging open for them.

"Sorry," Jack apologized to her as he hopped inside.

Ron paused momentarily in the entrance, scanning the room. He spotted Hermione sitting in the corner, head bent over a pile of books, and his face brightened. "Hermione!" he called, hurrying over. Harry let out an irritated sigh before trudging after him, hand buried deep in his pockets.

Hermione glanced up from her work, a strand of curly hair falling in front of her eyes. She brushed it aside, taking in the sight of a very angry looking Ron, irritated Harry, and rather bemused-looking Jack coming towards her.

"What is it this time?" she sighed, setting her quill down.

"Umbridge is evil," Ron hissed.

"I know that."

"No, really! Look what she makes people do in detention, that these two prats didn't tell us about! Jack, show her your hand!"

Jack frowned at him. "Why do I have to do it?"

"Because Harry's uncooperative," Ron stated, earning himself a sharp look from his best friend.

Clenching his jaw in expectation of Hermione's wrath, Jack held out one pale hand. Hermione stared at it, a deep frown etched into her expression.

Looking shocked, she reached out, gingerly taking Jack's hand. Something flickered in her eyes as she touched him, but she seemed focused on the words still written into his skin.

"Harry?" she asked softly, eyes going up to meet Harry's. "She did this to you, as well?"

Harry hesitated before nodding sharply.

Hermione released Jack, sitting back in her seat. Her lips were pursed as though she was trying hard to keep calm, and her eyes were flashing with a rage known only to Hermione. "You said she was only giving you lines," she said in a soft, dangerous voice.

"Well…" Jack trailed off.

"They are lines," Harry said weakly.

Hermione stood in one swift movement. "I have something to help you," she said simply. "I'll be right back; try not to irritate the wounds any more than they already have been."

She came back a few minutes later with two bowls she had announced was full of essence of Murtlap- whatever that was. Jack and Harry eagerly sunk their hands into it, letting it cool off the sharp pains in their hands.

"That feels nice," Jack sighed, flopping down in one of the chairs.

"I'll bet," Hermione said dryly. She heaved a great sigh, sitting down and grabbing one of the books she had out on the table. "You two need to speak to someone about this; she can't be allowed to get away with torture in her detentions! Tell Dumbledore, or at least McGonagall-"

"No," Harry said flatly. He shifted his hand in the Murtlap essence, emitting a series of awful squelchi g noises. "That's what she wants. I'm not going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know she got to me."

"But they'll help you!" Hermione said desperately. She turned to Jack, who had been watching the exchange silently. "Come on, Jack, you know you have to tell someone-"

"I agree with Harry," Jack said, shaking his hand. He flexed his fingers in the goop containing his hand, feeling it start to freeze. He struggled to keep the temperature up, not knowing what he would say if the others noticed a frozen bowl. "I'm not going to give in. It's not that big of a deal."

"She can't do this!" Hermione said in a loud voice.

"Shhh," Harry hissed at her. "Do you want to get the attention of the entire common room?"

"Harry-"

"No," he said in a hot voice. "It's my decision, and I'm not telling her. Goodnight."

He yanked his hand out of the bowl and jumped to his feet. Before anyone could say anything he was gone, having nearly sprinted up the stairs.

Hermione turned to Jack. Shaking his head, he pulled his hand out of the Murtlap essence, shaking it off in the bowl to try and get some of the cold goop off. "I'm going to bed, too," he said, getting up. "Thanks for the Murtlap essence. Night."

He turned and followed Harry up to the dormitories, absentmindedly flexing his hand. The action still sent jolts of pain across the skin.

Ron gave Hermione a helpless look. "I need to go talk to them. See you tomorrow?"

Hermione smiled half-heartedly at him. "Yeah, sure. Goodnight."

Alone, Hermione reached out and grabbed Jack's bowl, still full of the Murtlap essence. Biting her lip, she reached in and gently brushed a finger across it. She let out a small gasp at the temperature; freezing cold, as though it had been sitting in a refrigerator overnight.

Seizing Harry's bowl, she touched the goo in his. Room temperature, the way it should have been. Somehow, the temperature of Jack's bowl had decreased greatly just because he had stuck his hand into it. But that was impossible without a spell, and he hadn't done anything…

Hermione stared at the staircase where Jack had disappeared, a troubled look on her face.

* * *

No one spoke of last night's incident the next morning at breakfast. Jack kept his cloak hanging over the back of his hand, hiding his wound from view unless he were to lift his arm and let it slide back. He didn't want to raise any more questions about why he had words carved into the skin on the back of his hand.

Truth be told, the wound was starting to worry Jack. He knew it was supposed to stay there, etched into his skin as a reminder of his punishment, but he had thought it would heal by now. For him, at least. As an immortal, wounds healed unbelievably quickly, something Jack had become easily adjusted to. He had been surprised enough when it had stopped healing over during their detention session, but he had been mostly confident that it would fix itself overnight. He had been eagerly anticipating the look on Umbridge's face when he showed up with a healed hand and no idea how it got to be like that.

That didn't seem to be the case, however. When Jack woke up, the cuts were still there; they were less red around the edges, but still as clear as day. He had spent a good five minutes staring at it, struggling to keep his heart from beating too quickly. He'd never had an injury that lasted more than a day. He would give it some time, though- it had to heal eventually, right?

Neville slid into the seat across from them, looking hurried. "Did you guys do that essay for Umbridge?" he asked earnestly. "I forgot it! Would you mind…?"

Ron snorted, not looking up from his eggs. "Trust me, you don't want mine, Neville. It would do you more harm than good."

Hermione shot him a look. Jack, rolling his eyes in expectation of the coming argument, rifled through his bag. "Here," he said, handing over his parchment. "Not the best, but I suppose it'll do."

Neville beamed at him. "Thanks, Jack! I'll get it back to you as soon as I'm finished."

He shuffled off back to his seat, where he had set up a solitary workspace to write an entire essay in ten minutes. Jack watched him go with a little grin, absentmindedly poking at a plate of potatoes he had only grabbed to avoid suspicion.

"Not hungry again, Jack?" Hermione asked slyly, glancing over at him from her spot.

"I have food," he defended himself, jabbing his fork at his breakfast. "See? Potatoes. Yum."

"You're not eating them," she accused.

Ron sighed, dishing out a third serving of eggs. "Hermione, lay off him for once. So he doesn't eat much; you don't eat at all when it's exam time. What's the difference?"

Hermione looked like she wanted to say something, but restrained herself. She sat back in her seat with a huff, glaring at her toast. Jack watched her uneasily, rapping his fingers on the empty bench next to him absentmindedly. Hermione was the most clever person at this school, and Jack, of course, had decided to become friends with her. Not the best idea, when he thought back to it… She was the hardest person to hide his secret from, because she was just so observant. Already she was poking into it, trying to find out what was different about him.

Oh, if only she knew.

"Jack?" a hesitant voice asked from behind him.

Jack turned around to see a first-year standing there. A very familiar first year with messy blond hair that looked like he had just rolled out of bed and big grey eyes. He was looking at Jack cautiously, as though wondering if he would actually remember him.

Jack's face split into a wide smile. "Jordan! How you doing, buddy?"

Jordan's face flooded with relief. He smiled back, excitement evident on his face. "Jack, Hogwarts is awesome!" he piped up. "I've made a ton of new friends, and my classes are really great- except for Defense Against the Dark Arts, that's really boring," he said, momentarily frowning. Then he brightened up again. "You were right, I didn't have anything to be worried about!"

Jack felt warmth rising in him, the only warmth he could ever enjoy. Seeing children happy always made him feel like he had done his job right- and he had, of course. That _was _his job, looking after kids. He was happy he could do it even when he was supposed to be undercover.

It made him miss Jamie and the Burgess kids, though. He'd told them where he would be, and they had been devastated about not seeing him for months at a time. They didn't understand why he had to go to a secret private boarding school, but observed his wishes and didn't question him. It had been odd, this past week, being around people his own age (well, his physical age. People his _real _age would be creepy). He didn't feel as comfortable around them, but he was getting better. He did miss, however, the children.

"I told you you'd be awesome wherever you went," Jack said, eyes twinkling.

Jordan was practically jumping on the spot, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "And I get to stay here for Christmas!" he said, looking delighted. "I've heard it's awesome around the holidays! I hope we get a lot of snow."

If possible, Jack's smile grew even wider. "I think we have a pretty good chance," he said, amused. He jerked his head to the other side of the room without looking. "You should get going. Your friends are waiting for you."

At that very moment, another boy shouted, "Jordan!" waving him over from the direction Jack had gestured in.

Jordan glanced over, grinning happily. "Bye, Jack!" he said, waving at his friend as he hurried away.

Jack chuckled, turning back to his plate. He picked up his fork and resumed poking at his food, trying to make it look like he was eating.

"You're good with kids," Harry noted, taking a sip of water.

Jack shrugged. "I'm around them a lot. Learned a thing or two about dealing with them; it comes in handy sometimes. Plus, they make great company."

"And great test monkeys, apparently," Hermione said darkly, narrowing her eyes at something across the room.

"Oh, just let it go, will you?" Ron pleaded, looking up from his breakfast.

"Test monkeys?" Jack asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

Hermione heaved a sigh. "Fred and George Weasley," she said, annoyance lacing her tone. "Ron's older twin brothers. They want to start a joke shop, and made loads of products over the summer. Now that they're back at Hogwarts, they decided to test them."

Jack narrowed his eyes slightly. "They slip products to first years?" he asked, not believing anyone could do that.

"They pay them," Ron spoke up. "And it's not just first years, Hermione, it's anyone. They give them payment-"

"They can't do it!" Hermione declared. "You are a prefect, Ronald, and so am I! We just can't let this go! Don't you dare give me that look, you know I'm-"

"Having another lover's spat, are we?"

Jack looked up to see they had been joined at the table by two sixth years. They slid into seats across the table from them, grinning over at the glaring Hermione and red Ron.

They were completely identical, as far as Jack could tell, with flaming red hair and mischievous smiles. Their ties were undone and left hanging casually around their shoulders in a manner discouraged by the professors. Both looked rather pleased with themselves as Hermione spluttered, apparently lost for words.

"I- he- we're just friends!" she exclaimed hotly.

"_Sure _you are," the twin on the right said, waggling his eyebrows.

"For now, anyways," laughed the other. "I give it a few months, hmm, Fred?"

"Couple weeks, George," disagreed the first, eyes sparkling with mirth.

"Do you two have to do this here?" Hermione complained. "Honestly, haven't you got other people to annoy?"

"Nah," Fred said, dismissing the thought immediately. "No one's as fun to annoy as you are, Hermione. It's a coveted position, you should be proud."

"Delighted," Hermione said dryly.

George caught sight of Jack, and his face split into a wide, toothy grin. "You're the newbie!" he said, sounding overjoyed. "Say, I've been meaning to talk to you. I see you've hooked onto these three- bit of warning," he said, lowering his voice and leaning across the table towards Jack, "the one with the freckles is a bit of a prat- just saying."

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed, hearing him.

Fred thrust his hand in Jack's direction, completely ignoring Ron. "Fred Weasley," he introduced himself. "Ron's older and coolest brother."

"I'm George," his twin said, knocking his brother's hand out of the way before Jack could shake. "The better half of him. Pleasure to meet you…?"

"Jack Frost," Jack said, glad he finally got a word in. The conversation had been feeling rather one-sided up until that point. Reaching over, he gave George's hand a quick shake, pulling his arm back before their skin came into contact long enough for George to notice his cold body temperature.

"Jack Frost," Fred said, nodding. "Cool name. Sounds kinda sci-fi. Say, Jack, do you ever just feel like not going to class? Maybe you forgot to do your homework, or you were up late last night sneaking out to meet your girlfriend, or perhaps you just don't feel like learning?"

"Um-"

"Well, you need look no farther for a solution!" George exclaimed. He pulled something out of his pocket and set it on the table. "Puking pastille! A quick chew and swallow will have you puking up last night's lamb stew, a one-way ticket out of class!"

Curious, Jack reached out and picked up the small object. It looked like a piece of candy, colored a bright and artificial orange. He brought it to his nose and gave it a sniff, frowning down at it.

"You made this?" he asked, impressed.

"Don't encourage them," Hermione muttered, dropping her head to her hand.

"Hermione here doesn't appreciate our genius," Fred said with a presumptuous sniff. "It's three Sickles, if you want one."

"Why so cheap?" Harry asked, looking at the twins suspiciously.

"Well, we don't have the antidote," George said, shrugging. "You'll be puking even when there's nothing left to puke out. Not the best way to spend the day, but hey, it's better than Umbridge's class. Besides, Madam Pomfrey could fix you up if it got too bad."

"Speaking of Umbridge," Fred said, reaching down to grab something under the table. "Look what we've got!"

He set a bag in front of him, grinning as he patted the side. "Dung bombs!" he said quietly. "We're gonna slip them under the old bat's door during lunch. She's in for a nice surprise when she gets back."

"I told you, they won't ignite if we just roll them under," George disagreed. "They've got to hit something for maximum effect."

"Have you got a better idea?" Fred said, pouting. "It's worth a shot, at least."

"Why don't you levitate them through the window?" Jack suggested, eyeing the suspicious-looking brown bag.

George raised his eyebrows, considering the idea. "That would work," he said slowly.

"We don't know whether her window will be open," Fred pointed out. "She puts anti-spell charms on it; it can't be opened by magic. Trust me, we've tried."

Jack felt a small smile spread across his face. "It'll be open," he assured them. "Trust me. Just wait until lunch time, and you'll be ready to stink up her office like no one has ever done before."

Fred beamed across the table at him. "Really? Excellent! Thanks, Jack!"

"I like you," George said, nodding approvingly. "Like pranks then, do you?"

"Love them," Jack said with a grin.

"We'll definitely be consulting you this year, then," Fred said, looking pleased. He grabbed the bag, and the two twins got to their feet. "We'll be on our way, now. Classes to go, offices to bomb. Make sure that window's open by lunch, Jack. You can keep the Puking Pastille; we've got plenty. See you!"

They hurried off down the aisle, disappearing from the room. Jack watched them go bemusedly, wanting to laugh. He already liked Ron's elder brothers; they seemed interesting, and anyone who loved to play pranks was awesome in Jack's books. He was pleased to find someone with a want for trouble here. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were great, but they just didn't seem like the 'trouble' type to him.

"You encouraged them," Hermione accused.

"Can't deny it," Jack said with a good-natured shrug. He reached out and grabbed the Puking Pastille they had left behind, dropping it in his pocket for later.

"How do you know the window's going to be open?" Ron asked, sounding curious. "She normally has it shut, doesn't she?"

Jack speared a potato on his fork, bringing it up and forcing himself to pop it into his mouth. "Maybe today'll be different," he said, clinking the utensil thoughtfully against the side of his plate.

* * *

"Shut," Harry said, peering up at the window to Umbridge's office.

"Hmm?" Jack asked, eyes focused on the ground as he picked his way across the front lawn. They were headed towards the greenhouses for Herbology, and Jack was taking great care not to trip over the roots hidden just beneath the surface of the grass. He had already made the mistake of not looking where he was going plenty of times.

"The window," Harry said, turning to look at his white-haired friend. "It's shut. What are you going to say to Fred and George?"

Jack glanced unconcernedly up at the closed window. Turning his gaze back to the greenhouses ahead of him, he put his hands behind his back, hidden from sight. One flick of his wrist, and he could feel a gust of controlled wind spiral up to the window. It closed around the latch and tugged the window open, leaving it to freely swing in the breeze.

With a small, victorious smile, he looked back up at it. "No, it's open," he said casually.

Blinking, Harry looked back up. Hermione and Ron followed his gaze, looking surprised.

"But…" Harry trailed off, looking completely bewildered. "It was closed, just a moment ago! I saw it!"

Jack shrugged. "Maybe she opened it," he said, not pausing in his step.

"It's very convenient," Hermione noted, "isn't it? I mean, you telling Fred and George you'd have the window open, and the window popping open, as if by magic."

"We all can do magic, Hermione," Ron pointed out.

"Besides, the window has charms against magic on it," Jack said. "Only she could have opened it, right?"

Hermione frowned. "I suppose," she said slowly, playing with the sleeve of her robe absentmindedly.

Luckily, wind did not count as magic. It was carefully controlled by a spirit, yes, but it involved no enchantments or spells. Umbridge would surely be in for a treat when she found that someone had managed to get past her spell and invade her office with stench.

"Alright, class," Professor Sprout announced as soon as the three of them had joined the class in front of the greenhouse. "Today we will be working with Tulantarums."

"That sounds pleasant," Ron muttered to Jack, who held back a laugh.

"If you would please follow me into the greenhouse, I'll show you the tools you will be using to re-pot these extremely rare plants," Professor Sprout went on, turning and leading the way into the greenhouse.

The class trailed after her. At the head of the group, Draco Malfoy and his group of Slytherins were laughing about something. Jack shot them a look, but didn't try to start anything now. He followed Hermione, Harry, and Ron over to an empty table, grabbing a pair of safety goggles and pulling them over his eyes.

"Oh, look," a familiar voice laughed from behind Jack. "Longbottom's got no partner!"

Jack looked over his shoulder with a frown. Neville was sitting alone at a table, staring down at his safety goggles with a frown. Malfoy stood off to the side, laughing at him.

"No one wants to partner up with the class idiot," he said with a smirk. "You'll probably succeed in blowing them up, just like you do everything, Longbottom! Tell me, do you ever get lonely, sitting alone all the time?"

Jack clenched his fists. He climbed to his feet, pushing his chair back and out of the way.

"Jack," Hermione whispered, looking torn between beating Malfoy up herself and pulling Jack away before he could start a fight.

Jack ignored her. He turned around, marching over to Neville's table. Pulling up a chair, he sat across from the surprised Gryffindor, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Hey, Neville," he greeted. "Mind if I join you for today?"

"Not at all," Neville said, looking extremely grateful.

"Aw, is Frost partnering up with the charity case?" Malfoy jeered. "I didn't know you had a thing for doofus's."

Jack ground his foot into the ground, feeling a layer of frost spread beneath him. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he pulled out the Puking Pastille, ignoring Malfoy. He held it out in front of him, showing it to Neville.

"My Uncle sent me this at breakfast," he said over Malfoy's laughter. "He's in Africa on a trip. It's one of their most prized delicacies, and he was only allowed to purchase one at a time, because they take so long to make and are _so _expensive. They're supposed to be the best candies in the world, definitely better than any wizard or Muggle candy. I reckon I'm the only person in the school with enough connections to even _hold _one, let alone eat it. And it's all mine."

Neville was staring at him with a completely blank expression, obviously shocked by the bout of gloating. Malfoy's table had gone silent; his bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, were eyeing the candy with greed. Malfoy himself was frowning at Jack, obviously not liking the fact that someone had something he didn't.

The blond-haired boy stood up sharply. He marched over to Jack's table, crossing his arms professionally across his chest. Jack looked up, faking a look of surprise, and tried to hide the candy behind his hand.

"Draco!" he greeted. "Can I help you?"

"Foreign foods aren't allowed at Hogwarts," the Slytherin said coyly, smirking down at him. "I guess you wouldn't know that, being home-schooled. As a prefect, I suppose I'll have to confiscate that African candy from you."

Jack's eyes widened, and he shook his head. "Oh, no, Draco, my uncle got this specially for me," he said, a desperate expression on his face. "Can you let it slide, just this once? Please?"

Everyone in the class was staring at them at this point. Professor Sprout, completely unaware of what was going on, was tending to a plant at the front of the room, batting it away from the box of supplies she was digging through.

Malfoy smiled at him with narrowed eyes. "Too bad, so sad, Frost. Give it here," he said, holding out his hand.

Heaving a great sigh, Jack dropped the orange candy into his hand. Malfoy's pale fingers closed over it, and he turned and marched back over to his table without another word. His group of 'friends' were all laughing at Jack, smirking over their shoulder at him as Malfoy held out the candy for them to see.

Jack leaned his chin on his fist, staring at them expectantly. Neville stared at him from across the table, looking slightly worried. "Jack?" he asked cautiously. "What'd you do that for?"

"Just wait," Jack muttered, watching Malfoy closely.

"Okay, everyone," Professor Sprout called from the front of the room. Jack reluctantly tore his gaze from Malfoy to see the professor holding up a potted plant that looked for all the world like a tulip. "_This _is a Tulantarum. They're found in tropical regions of the world, and-"

Her speech was interrupted by a gagging noise. The entire class turned as one to the Slytherin table, where Malfoy sat, face suddenly pale, clutching at his throat as though he had something stuck in it.

"Draco?" asked a worried-looking girl with a face that resembled a pug's. "Draco, what's wrong?"

Suddenly, Malfoy let out a horrible gag, and puked right on the table. His friends all gave a small scream, getting up and backing away from the suddenly vomiting boy.

"Get him out!" Professor Sprout shouted. "Out of the greenhouse! Take him to Madam Pomfrey!"

Crabbe and Goyle slowly inched their way over to their sick friend. Malfoy vomited again, spraying sick over the table, and they hesitated before continuing forward.

"Come on," they grunted, taking him by the elbow. As he passed Jack and Neville's table, Jack raised his eyebrows, wrinkling his nose as Malfoy threw up on the ground.

"Madam Pomfrey can fix you up," he called as the procession passed, trying not to take any pleasure from the dark glare Malfoy sent him in-between his vomiting.

When they had exited the greenhouse, the place broke out into chatter, everyone discussing what had happened. Jack could hear Ron roaring with laughter from the other table, but focused his attention on Neville, who looked like he had realized something.

"That candy," he said slowly. He looked up at Jack, an admiring expression on his face. "That candy made him throw up, didn't it? You gave it to him on purpose!"

Jack shrugged, leaning back in his seat and grinning across the table at Neville. "He was messing with my friend. I can't stand people who mess with my friends," he said simply, lightly touching the cuts on the back of his hand.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to get up, I had a bit of trouble with it. Next chapter will be a lot of Jack doing magic, so I'll get cracking on that ASAP.**

**R&R**


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